


The Self-Indulgent Troperiffic Clichevaganza Ficsplosion

by burr_ell



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teen Titans (Animated Series) Setting, F/M, Fluff, Teen Titans as Family, background flinx but will probably become more overt in the future, dick grayson is either nightwing or robin depending on which point in the timeline we're in, some worldbuilding is sprinkled throughout because i live for that crap, the titans as found family is very important to me, these will fit largely in continuity with the show and each other unless stated otherwise, we got some sarah simms/cyborg content boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2020-10-05 07:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burr_ell/pseuds/burr_ell
Summary: Chronicling the shenanigans and hooliganry of our favorite team. May or may not include fanfic tropes as old as time itself, gushing about the best animated series in the world, and the occasional roast of DC Comics.





	1. Thicker Than Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TURF stands for Titans Urban Relief Fund, which was established in the tie-in comics as an organization dedicated to fixing the collateral damage caused by superhero battles. It's one of my favorite little additions to canon from the tie-in book.
> 
> Robin and Starfire are married like they deserve. It was a beautiful ceremony and if I do end up writing it I promise it'll involve me roasting the daylights out of DC for doing That to their wedding. Don't look at him, he knows what he did.

She _really_ hates how much he loves these Titans summits.

Well, right now anyway.

She tips her head back to meet the hallway wall, staring up at the ceiling. She has been listening to the indistinct vowel sounds of Nightwing’s voice in the Ops room for about half an hour now, and it is all she can do to distract herself from simply flying in and dragging her aggravating husband up to the roof.

Her aggravating, enthusiastic, hyper-competitive, engaging, friendly, hardworking, disciplined husband who wants to personally make sure each and every Titan around the world is at their best.

Even so, how long could this possibly be taking? There are a few heroes there who work alone, but it is largely only team leaders giving reports. She has seen council meetings on Tamaran that have ended more quickly than this. (Though to be fair, they usually ended in the medical wards.)

She rolls her spine to make herself stand upright again and walks toward the door, careful not to stand too close to its sensor, and presses her ear against the wall.

“—think that about covers what we need,” Nightwing says. “It’s good to hear that things have settled down a bit. Jinx, you’re sure Titans South doesn’t need any help from TURF for—?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Jinx says firmly. “That money’s for civilians, not for us. We’ll get by.”

Starfire feels a swell of pride in her chest. It can be so difficult to remember who Jinx once was, but so much has changed since then—and she is almost as proud of her husband for the faith and trust he put in someone who had once taken his home as a trophy.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” She can hear her own affection mirrored in Nightwing’s tone. “Just let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

“And hey, Bushido,” Bumblebee cuts in amid the sudden scraping of chairs over the floor—_at last!_—“thanks again for that update on Cheshire.”

“Of course,” he’s started to say, but the sudden _shhhk_ of the doors sliding apart interrupts him as Starfire glides in.

Nightwing’s mask lenses widen slightly. “Hey, Star, what’s up?”

“It is…” She pauses, searching for how to phrase it. “I simply wish to speak with you.”

“Alright.” Nightwing smiles. “We just finished our meeting anyway, so now’s a good time.”

A scoff comes from the kitchen island. “Please, ‘wing,” Ravager says with a smirk. “You interrupt battles for the fate of the world just to flirt with your Princess.”

“Yeah, I’m not stickin’ around for that,” Jinx says, leaving her seat next to Ravager to stride toward the door. Bumblebee, Bushido, Ravager, Red Star, Thunder, Lightning, and Pantha all bid goodbye to Nightwing and follow her, and Starfire hears some murmurs of congratulation for her recent engagement. The light somehow always manages to catch the glittering gem on Jinx’s finger, though it is as much to show off Flash’s taste as it is simply to show off.

“What’s up, Star?” Nightwing asks as the doors _whoosh_ closed.

She cannot avoid this forever.

She glides over to where he stands directly in front of the windows, where the screen has just winked out of the display of a world map labeled with various Titans’ locations. She studies him for a moment, his short black hair glowing gold in the afternoon sun. She would love to tell him that it is nothing, merely that she believes Cyborg has planned breakfast for dinner or that Beast Boy has caused some manner of explosion in the training room, but she knows she must—as the Earth saying goes—face the music.

“It is…last week when you and Beast Boy were assisting Red Star, I…visited Tamaran.”

That his wife is capable of faster-than-light interplanetary travel is not the oddest thing about this situation. “Tamaran? Is something wrong?” Nightwing’s eyes narrow. “Is there some kind of diplomatic thing you have to do? Starfire, you know we’re not gonna let you go into something dangerous by yourself—”

“I am pregnant.”

His eyes widen, and his mouth gapes.

Silence, she has learned, can in fact have a way of being all one can hear. The sudden change in the mood of the room is palpable, and it feels like an open field caught between the sun and a storm. She presses her lips together, hoping fervently that Raven will not feel this and investigate.

(She wonders if perhaps Raven had known before she did, had sensed the tiny heartbeat before any ultrasound could have picked it up, but Starfire had not asked. She is unsure whether it might have been better or worse had Raven simply surprised her with the information rather than her making the long journey to her home world.)

The silence wears on, but she refuses to be the one to break it, shifting her weight from side to side in the air, crossing and uncrossing her legs at the ankles as she floats.

Nightwing blinks. “Starfire, I—”

“I know it is not the best time,” she begins quickly, jumping at the chance to cover all the things she thought of during her wait. “And I did not know what to think when I heard, and I know that it will be difficult to raise a child here—”

“Sta—”

“But now that I know, I know that it is something that I truly want, and I know that you have considered it before, and you are excellent with children, you know, and I know it will be difficult and strange, but I believe that we are capable of—”

“_Starfire.”_

She drops gracelessly to the floor, unable to look away from the blank white eyes of his mask. “Yes?”

Nightwing takes her hands and smiles. “We’re gonna need to babyproof the evidence room.”

It is as if her whole being is lighter than air—which, she soon realizes, it is, as she has shot up fifteen feet off the ground. She cannot help but let out a joyful cry, flying in loops about the Ops room before stopping to float in front of Nightwing. 

“You are…happy?”

In one swift, fluid motion, he peels off his mask and tosses it aside, and she has a brief glimpse of his shining blue eyes before he takes her face in his hands and kisses her. She cannot help but sink into it in sweet relief, her anxieties dissipating into thin air as she pulls him closer.

He pulls back, resting his forehead against hers and brushing his thumb along her cheek. “Star, I’ve never been happier in my life.”

“I thought—parenting is already so difficult, but we are heroes, and we do not wish for our child to be harmed—I thought you would—”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this team, it’s that we can deal with _anything_ together.” He grins. “And c’mon, Star—_we’re having a baby!”_ He swoops her up into the air and twirls her around. “This is amazing!” He suddenly drops her and recoils back. “Wait a minute, I’m so stupid—I shouldn’t be _lifting_ you—should you even be _flying?_ I know Tamaranians are super-strong, but—”

Starfire takes his hands and presses her face against them. Even when gloved, their touch relaxes her. “Fear not,” she assures him gently. “This will not harm me.” She heaves a sigh. “I am…relieved that you are so pleased. It is wonderful that we will be having a child together, but I am still concerned as to how we can…make this work.” 

His face softens. “Of course it’ll be hard, Star, and we’ll need to plan. I mean, I’m already trying to work out in my head how we can hide this without any villains getting suspicious. But we’ll find a way. We always do.”

His words on their own would be reassurance enough, but his lack of reservation in saying them soothes her worries almost entirely. He’s _with_ her, he’s on her side, and he’s _happy._ They can form a plan and they can _do this. _“We would possibly need to disguise it as some sort of extended trip to Tamaran,” she says. “I believe I will need treatments that are impossible to find on Earth.”

“D’you think we could disguise it as some kind of year-long diplomatic mission?”

“Perhaps,” Starfire says slowly, “but it will be difficult to justify. Since I have abdicated the throne, I have had very little involvement with Tamaranian diplomatic affairs. It may seem suspicious to suddenly require such a lengthy absence.”

“We could start with some brief visits,” Nightwing muses, rubbing his thumb and index finger around his chin, “make it seem less abrupt…and those holographic generator rings might come in handy, too—maybe see if Cyborg can’t figure out a way to—”

_Sshhhk._

“Hey, what’s goin’ on up here?” Beast Boy runs down the steps, followed by Cyborg and Raven. “I was in my room and I heard this yell and Cyborg ran up and Raven thought there was something weird—”

“Yo, what’re you doin’ without a mask on? _In the middle of Ops?”_

“I sensed a sudden surge in emotional energy.” Raven gives Starfire a knowing look. “Something going on?”

Starfire exchanges looks with Nightwing, who beams at her in encouragement, then she takes a deep breath and releases it. “I—friends,” she begins, a slight tremor of excitement in her voice, “I am…pregnant.”

The roars of delight are deafening. Cyborg and Beast Boy surge forward, whooping in delight, before Cyborg suddenly skids to a stop on his heels and Beast Boy crashes into his outstretched arm. “Whoa, hold up, we can’t do a group hug!”

“Dude, whaddo—_ooooohhhh,_ right!” Beast Boy nods sagely, as though having stumbled upon a tome of ancient wisdom.

Starfire giggles. Oh, how she loves these boys. “Do not worry,” she says. “I have seen a physician on my home world. Tamaranians are quite durable even in pregnancy.” She spreads her arms wide. “There is no unborn child in the world who can halt the power of the group hug!”

_“Well, alright!”_ Cyborg and Beast Boy both fling their arms around opposite sides of her shoulders, squeezing her close. Nightwing jumps in from behind, chin resting on Starfire’s shoulder and arms gripping Cyborg and Beast Boy. Even Raven glides forward to join them, nestling herself between Starfire and Cyborg, a small smile on her face that tells them all that she is equally thrilled.

They break apart after what might have been ten seconds or ten days (but either way was not enough for Starfire’s liking), Beast Boy chattering excitedly about which animal forms will be best for babysitting duty and Cyborg already thinking aloud about schematics for “the safest most high-tech crib on the planet”. Nightwing picks up his discarded mask and gingerly presses it back onto his face before joining Cyborg, undoubtedly to make plans to prepare the Tower. Cyborg gives him a congratulatory slap on the back as they sit down at the kitchen table, and Beast Boy says something that makes all three dissolve into laughter.

Starfire turns to Raven, who is gazing fondly at the scene. “Raven,” she begins quietly, “did you know?”

“I sensed another life force within you,” Raven murmurs, “but I didn’t want to say anything until you confirmed it. I thought it was something you and Nightwing should find out for yourselves.”

She is quiet, but in her sort of way that Starfire knows to mean that she is deep in thought. “You are troubled?”

Raven’s brow furrows slightly. “Are you and Nightwing planning to…go out on your own? Get an apartment or something? It’s gonna be pretty risky trying to raise a kid in the Tower.”

“I too was concerned when I heard the news,” Starfire replies quietly, “but the Tower has security measures and safety protocols that we simply could not have elsewhere.”

She watches Cyborg and Nightwing fall deep into conversation, the snatches of words she can hear already delving into ways to keep the baby safe and secret. Cyborg is saying something about cloaking devices, while Nightwing seems to be working out scheduling for journies to Tamaran. Beast Boy, for his part, is making a list out loud of what will be appropriate ‘cuddle morphs’. And Raven…Raven is allowing for them to leave, even knowing how much it would hurt her to lose them.

Starfire beams. “And I could not ask for our child to be raised in a better family.”

Raven rolls her eyes. “_So_ corny.”

She is still smiling when they join the others at the table. She will make an excellent godmother, Starfire decides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine most of the characters are now in their early-to-mid 20's, which means Kid Flash will have shed that mantle and become Flash. What happened to Barry Allen is...up to you. Retired, maybe, since Flashes are consistently among the few members of the Justice League who aren't completely emotionally constipated. While I love Teen Titans being in its own 'verse with its own continuity, I also fully endorse the headcanon that Jinx's real name is Linda Park—though I personally like to think she changed it to that from her birth name to symbolize her personal growth. (I'd feel a bit worse about the canon defilement if she didn't already barely resemble her comic counterpart.)
> 
> As a general rule, I won't have characters referring to each other by their 'real names'. In a more realistic world it would make more sense, especially for a married couple to do so, but to me one of the draws of the show has always been that they don't do that except in isolated wink-and-nudge moments. Don't know why, exactly; it's just one of those unique little quirks about the world of the show that makes it stand out to me among the rest of the various DC continuities.
> 
> also, follow me on tumblr at burr-ell.tumblr.com, if you're into that sort of thing


	2. Five + One Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or: five times robin blushed because of starfire, and one time the tables were tabled

i.

It was the _right thing to do._

They’d just destroyed an entire prom. These kids had spent a ton of time and money getting ready for this night, and if he and Starfire had somehow been declared prom king and queen, then they were gonna do at least one thing right by the evening and share a dance. 

_That’s all._

And of course he’d learned to dance—any ward of Bruce Wayne’s had to learn. So of course he’d learned the proper positions, how to lead, how to recognize the rhythms. It was like any circus act; choreography was his specialty. 

There was _no reason_ for him to be thinking about this, not one single reason for him to be captivated by how her eyes glowed softly in the light or how she moved so gracefully for someone who’d never done this before (but of course she did, the way she flew made her look like a dancer _shut up shut up shut up_) or how softly she was smiling or how she seemed to only want to look at him as much as he only wanted to look at her _which he did not_—

(Their hands fit so perfectly together though, and it shouldn’t be any different from their combo moves on the battlefield but it was and it was _good_, and he was squeezing her hand subconsciously like she was about to throw him at a bad guy but he wasn’t about to let them be separated this time, and of course you weren’t going to be separated you _moron, _you were dancing and the song wasn’t over, you _knew_ how this worked—)

He didn’t know how anything worked, did he?

Well, he knew what that warmth rushing across his face meant. Except _no it didn’t_. He didn’t have a crush because that would be a stupid idea and leaders didn’t do that.

He hoped desperately that the pink lighting and the domino mask hid that blush—hoped even more that he could distract Cyborg and Beast Boy with waffles or something when they got back to the Tower while he locked himself in his room and hated everything.

Including how pretty Starfire looked in the soft glow of the fairy lights. And the fact that he couldn’t stop smiling. And the fact that the song had just ended which meant that they’d have to share another dance or it’d look awkward, oh noooooo… 

_Hated._

_Everything._

ii.

“So we’re really not gonna talk about what happened?”

Robin sighed. “Cyborg, I already said we’d go grocery shopping tomorrow, you can make do with—”

“On _Tamaran_, Robin.”

His back was still to them while he looked out the windows, so they couldn’t see his eyes narrowed, but they got the vibe all the same. “What about it?” 

“Dude, you basically lost your mind,” said Beast Boy. “You ever see the wedding scene in that movie _The Graduate?_ It was like that, only with a big slimy alien worm thing.”

“Blackfire lied to hurt Starfire and took control of the planet for her own gain,” Robin said sharply. “It’s not about the wedding.”

“Is that why you were freakin’ out about the wedding the whole way there?” Cyborg asked pointedly. “It’s not like we knew it was all a trick then.”

“Yeah, and remember when they showed her the guy she was gonna marry and we all thought it was that ripped Tamaranian dude?” Beast Boy snickered. “You looked like you were gonna blow a gasket.”

“…No one should have to marry a guy who walks around in a loincloth,” Robin muttered.

Cyborg smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “You know you can just admit that you like her, right?” 

“Oh, I don’t think he likes her.” Beast Boy grinned predatorily. “I think he _looooooves_ her.” 

The effect was instantaneous. Robin went ramrod straight and pivoted around, his bright red face betraying him. Cyborg didn’t need the scanner in his arms to know Robin’s heartbeat was a mile a minute, and the twitching eye beneath his mask just tied it all together. _“I do not!”_

Beast Boy fell over himself cackling. “You _so _do!”

“Yeah, you can always tell someone’s bein’ honest when they yell at you while blushing.”

“It—I don’t—she—it’s not like that!” Robin threw up his arms in frustration and stormed past them out of the Ops room, spluttering half-formed protests to the wall. 

Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged looks as the doors _whooshed_ closed, then burst out laughing, falling over each other on the couch. Their fearless leader, trained by Batman, detective extraordinaire and acrobatics master, brought to babbling incoherence by a _girl?_ An _alien warrior princess,_ no less? 

This was gonna be better than cable.

iii.

There was an unspoken sort of understanding between them, ever since the cave.

It didn’t take them long to find Raven, with the T-Ship half-repaired and Starfire’s powers working again. And they got there to find their friend being pampered like a goddess, with hordes of little bulb-headed creatures worshipping everything she said. Starfire, Robin, and Beast Boy were all ready to rush in toward her, to find her section of the T-Ship and fix it and just leave this awful planet behind, but—

“Wait.” 

They all turned to see an unusually somber Cyborg, leaning against the T-Ship with his arms folded, staring at the ground. “Let her be for a little bit.”

“Cyborg, are you crazy?” Beast Boy hissed. “What if they’re evil demon monsters trying to fatten her up and eat her or something?”

“She’s an empath, B,” Cyborg said flatly. “If there was something wrong, she’d have sensed it. And she can take care of herself.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Robin asked.

Cyborg sighed. “Look, y’all…we just found out her dad’s an interdimensional demon who’s gonna try to use her to fulfill some prophecy about the end of the world. And Slade’s come after her just to mess with her about it twice now. She’s been beatin’ herself up about it her whole life. I think for now, let’s just…let her have a moment, y’know?”

Oh.

_Oh._

The other three exchanged worried glances, and then Starfire and Robin’s eyes met. There was an odd reality check that passed between them—the end of the world was coming. Their feelings could be what they were—but this was their priority. First and foremost, they had to protect Raven.

They had to save the world.

He couldn’t dwell on how her eyes lit up when he told her she was brave and strong. He couldn’t focus on how her hand fit in his and how _wonderful _it was to fly with her. He couldn’t consider that weird, instinctive part of his mind that lay beyond being worried about her that was actually kind of _flattered_ that he, of all people, could make her powers fail when not even Terra’s betrayal could block them.

Aaaaand right there, there was a warm blush heating up the back of his neck. Now see, brain, this is a great example of what we’re _not_ going to do. See, you’ve demonstrated for everyone, there it is.

…You’ve made your point. You can stop now.

It was still so hard when they made camp and deliberately sat away from each other. There was a horrible pang of longing, when he thought about how much he’d looked forward, for once, to Cyborg being right, to not caring about Beast Boy’s smirks or Raven’s quirked eyebrow. It hurt _so much._

But they were still heroes. It was just what they had to do.

iv.

“You probably should’ve kissed her, you know.”

He didn’t need to look behind him to know Robin’s eyebrows had flown up his forehead. “Excuse me?”

If he still had the muscles to do it, Slade would have smirked behind his mask. He’d missed needling that boy. “Your girlfriend, Starfire. It was quite clear that you wanted to.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” They were words that had clearly been spoken before, but now they reeked of bitterness and resignation, rather than the expected embarrassment.

Of course, whatever their tone, they’d been spoken all the same. “But you want her to be. Don’t you?”

“_What I want_ is to save Raven, and the world,” Robin spat.

“And after that?” He had him now. “On the slim chance we succeed, what do you plan to do? It’s clear this is a long time coming for you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course,” Slade drawled. “You merely broke away from my threats as soon as she was in your crosshairs. You save her time and again when any fool knows she can take care of herself. That look you were giving her, a minute ago—I was hardly born yesterday, Robin.”

Silence.

Then, “And what does it matter to you?”

“Can’t an old man simply take an interest in true love?”

“It’s never that innocent with you.” 

“Perhaps not.” Slade turned his head behind him, surprised to see that—in spite of the remnants of a faint blush; _that_ was new—Robin’s expression remained neutral. He still had some tells here and there, but the boy _was_ learning after all. Impressive. He’d have to up his game. “But it is interesting. She is the type to defy orders and logic, after all. She came to find you when she knew there were vicious nanites coursing through her veins. And yet…you would think, if your feelings were returned, she might have thrown caution to the winds back there. How curious now that she wouldn’t.”

They were approaching the doors to hell, yet Robin’s anger felt fiercer—anger, laced with a new sense of self-doubt.

_There _it is. 

The boy remained silent, however. Whether brooding or simply not wishing to give Slade the satisfaction of a response, it didn’t matter. It was still just like old times, and at the end of the world, a little nostalgia couldn’t hurt.

v.

He’d seen an apocalypse with less pandemonium than this. 

It was _fantastic_.

An explosive disc here, a roundhouse kick and three punches to the gut there, a flip off the back of a head and a birdarang embedded in a robotic forehead—man, he never got to have _this _much fun just working with Batman.

And he was with the team—his family, his best friends, and every other amazing hero they’d met along the way. The field was thinning on the villain front, which meant he could take a breather and watch for a minute, take it all in and plan his way through.

Aqualad launched Phobia straight up into the air with a burst of water and Speedy shot concussive arrows to smash her into a wall. Raven and Beast Boy dueled Mad Mod and Kardiak, while Bushido ducked and weaved beneath them matching blades with Katarou. Argent and Red Star cleared a path through Immortus’s minions for Kilowatt to light up Trident, Pantha blinded Madame Rouge with Wrestling Star’s newly-stripped mask before swinging her around and tossing her into Angel, Hot Spot melted Control Freak’s laser sword hilt and Cyborg shot him in the back…

_Eat your heart out, Doom Patrol._

A flash of vivid green caught his eye, and he looked up to see Starfire haring after Killer Moth, whose plasma whip missed her face by inches. Robin shot a grapple line toward the scaffolding in Killer Moth’s path, launching legs forward to knock the ugly mutant troll out of the sky—but Starfire beat him to it. Killer Moth blocked two starbolts easily, only to be struck to the ground when Starfire flipped forward and brought her heel smashing down over his head.

_Now _there’s_ a distraction for you—_

WHAM.

It was a good thing Starfire had been there to catch him, diving down and letting him go safely onto the floor. He shook his head, dazed from the impact on the metal scaffolding, but he cleared up in enough time to give Starfire the ‘okay’ sign with his hand. She nodded, beaming, and flew off.

He turned to Kid Flash leaning against some debris, eyebrows raised, evidently having just delivered Killer Moth to the flash freezer. Robin felt himself turning vivid red, but oh look, Cheshire was trying to escape through one of Herald’s portals, better take care of that—

He glared at Kid Flash as he ran past. “Shut up.”

Kid Flash grinned. “I didn’t say anything!”

vi. 

She had started to love these lazy, quiet summer afternoons. After all, what better time was there to read her textbooks?

Ever since they prevented Mad Mod’s takeover of the city, Starfire had been full to bursting with questions about American history—questions which none of the Titans could fully answer. Raven and Cyborg simply had not studied the subject as extensively as they had their own powers and passions; Robin’s education, though evidently standard for Earth teenagers his age, was a rather simplified version of events, and Beast Boy…was also perhaps not the best resource. 

Raven’s idea had been wonderful—they reached out to a nearby university, whose history department had been kind enough to supply Starfire with textbooks and recommendations for other resources. She submerged herself in the material, even researching original letters and documents, and she often watched documentaries when the TV was free. Studying the history of her new home gave her a sense of connection to it, and more than that, American history was simply _fascinating_. It also gave her and Raven something else to do together, since there was no one who had perfected the atmosphere for quiet reading quite like the girl who had long since stopped pretending to not enjoy the company.

She could also keep Robin company this way—he would work on a case report in the Ops room and she would sit on the couch and read, occasionally calling his attention away to something interesting she had discovered. He did not mind the interruptions; besides, who would not wish to learn that there had once been a war between American and Canadian lumberjacks, or that a Representative of the American Congress had once beaten a Senator to unconsciousness with a cane?

(She was surprised when she first read it that the Senator had not fought back harder. After all, dueling had not yet been made illegal at the time…perhaps he was unfamiliar with hand-to-hand combat? Odd; for Tamaranian politicians, such training was considered basic.)

Robin’s mood always seemed to lighten when she told him about new things she had discovered. She could not blame him; learning _was_ quite fun. And since they had begun the ‘dating’ two weeks ago, he would occasionally take breaks of his own volition simply to ask her outright what she was reading, even cuddling up next to her on the couch. She was glad that he was taking an interest—it is important to know such things.

So on a Wednesday afternoon, as enormous puffy clouds drifted across the clear blue sky, Robin was filing a report about suspects in a new HIVE cell, and Starfire was engrossed in _The Oxford Guide to United States Supreme Court Decisions_. She was idly curled up against the right arm of the couch, faintly aware of the golden sunlight on her skin and the clicking of the keyboard from the very front of the Ops room.

So faintly aware, in fact, that she did not notice when the clicking stopped and, a few seconds later, a warm body pressed against her arm. She looked up from the analysis of _Gideon v. Wainwright_ as Robin rested his chin on her shoulder, leaning his head against hers.

“Hi,” he said, a cute little smile on his face. “Anything interesting?”

“Oh, yes!” Starfire marked her place and closed the book. “The legal system in America is most fascinating. It is…‘cool’, I believe, to observe its evolution toward truly upholding the founding principles of the country.” She tipped her head to one side. On closer examination, Robin looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and his hair ruffled. “Robin, have you not taken any breaks at all today?”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “I…it was a long report.” 

Starfire held in an exasperated sigh, recalling that he had already been up late the night before after chasing Mammoth halfway around the city, and later still the night before that chasing the lead to find Gizmo and Kyd Wykkyd. Wordlessly, she pulled him closer to her and pillowed his head on her shoulder. He let out a small surprised huff, but relaxed against her instinctively, taking her right hand in his left and rubbing his thumb idly over the back. 

“You take so much weight upon your shoulders,” Starfire murmured. “It does not go unnoticed.”

“I know I should take better care of myself,” Robin mumbled, nestling his head further into the crook of her neck.

“You take care of us,” she said, gently threading her free fingers into his hair. “It is only right that we should take care of you.”

“Mmm.” His smile was spreading a bit wider, looking cuter and—dopier, was it, that Cyborg had said about it the other day?—by the second. He sighed contentedly. “Don’t think I want everyone takin’ care of me like this.”

She giggled, idly rubbing her fingers on his scalp. “Perhaps you could do the snuggling with Beast Boy when he is a cat.”

“Don’ even joke.” He had gone almost completely limp. “That feels _really_ good.”

“What does?”

“Your hands in m’hair.”

He was _adorable_. Silkie would be furious if he was here.

“’M glad you’re learnin’ this stuff,” he said, gesturing his chin slightly toward the closed book on the table. “I like hearin’ you talk about it.”

She felt a blush blotting the back of her neck. “It is important to learn. I am—I am grateful that you wish to learn as well.”

“I wanna learn from _you,_” he said. He let go of her hand, turned around, and lay his head on her lap, gazing straight up at her. “Love how you look when you find out new stuff you like. Your face gets all…” His left hand gestured vaguely up at her before falling listlessly back onto the couch.

Starfire took it, trying to think of anything to say to this while running her right hand through his hair. He sighed contentedly again and closed his eyes. “’S pretty.”

Starfire stared, her cheeks growing hot.

_Pretty._

Was not Blackfire supposed to be the pretty one? Rebellious and intuitive and clever? She could believe she had won someone’s heart such that they could listen to her merely because she was speaking—that was the nature of love. But she had never thought that she would be considered as truly desirable.

And by _Robin_, of all people.

And he thought she was _pretty._

She looked down to see that he had fallen asleep with his head on her lap. She had never seen a softer-looking person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite things about Starfire is that she's lowkey super nerdy about random disparate things. Her favorite TV show is 'World of Fungus', and she knows how many atoms are in a kilogram of oxygen off the bat in "Episode 257-494". The scene in "Revolution" where she discusses the nature and spirit of American democracy is one of my favorites, showing that she actually has a sophisticated understanding of governmental philosophy, especially for someone who didn't know what the Fourth of July was about. I think it'd also make sense if she was the 'nerdy' sister in comparison to Blackfire; she took her duty as Princess very seriously and wanted to know the history and political workings of the planet she might one day have to rule.
> 
> It was important to me to try to fill in the gaps regarding why Robin and Starfire had that heart-to-heart conversation in "Stranded" but didn't actually get together until "Trouble in Tokyo" (which I personally think is meant to be the series finale, thus taking place after Season 5). It makes me happy that Raven got to be the one person who was able to relax on that planet with all the trauma of the rest of that season, especially since "Stranded" is the episode immediately following "The Prophecy", but that just reminds me that "The End" is still coming, and the rest of the Titans know it too. The added convo with Slade is a follow-up effort to explain why Robin never broached the subject with Starfire for a whole season after that—aside from how scattered the team was while fighting the Brotherhood of Evil, Robin's insecurities are his own worst enemy, and Slade knows it.
> 
> The two historical events Starfire references are real—the Aroostook War and Preston Brooks's caning of Charles Sumner, respectively. Gideon v. Wainwright was a Supreme Court case regarding the right to an attorney.


	3. Growing Pains, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team deals with growing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Of the team, while Beast Boy and Cyborg love all kinds of junk food, Robin/Nightwing has the biggest sweet tooth.
> 
> -timmy's dad voice- and here's where i'd put all my canon bbrob friendship...IF I HAD SOME

“Man, Cyborg, you really outdid yourself with this one!” Nightwing said cheerfully as he walked into the Ops room. “Hey, Beast Boy, thanks for—what’s so funny?”

Beast Boy had snorted into his plate stacked high with tofu waffles. Nightwing caught a soft chuckle next to Beast Boy and his eyebrows flew up into his forehead. “Raven, are you actually laughing at something Beast Boy thinks is funny?” 

Starfire turned from the kitchen island where she was collecting a plate of her own apple cinnamon pancakes, and nearly dropped it when she doubled over.

“Aw, c’mon, Star,” Nightwing whined as she collected herself and sat down next to Raven, “not you too—what’s going on?”

Starfire giggled. “Nightwing, have you perhaps looked in a mirror this morning?”

“No, I wanted to—oh, for—_Beast Boy!”_ He had finally gotten a look at his hair in the shiny reflection of Raven’s unused spoon before rounding on a cackling Beast Boy, who had fallen sideways onto the dinner table booth cushions. 

“Hey, Wing—I think the orange looks better on Starfire, don’t you?” Beast Boy wheezed.

“Do I need to start hiding all my stuff in meat lockers?” Nightwing grumbled half-heartedly as he sank down next to Starfire, running a hand through his short mop of newly-neon-orange hair.

“Be of good cheer, Nightwing,” Starfire said, rubbing a hand up and down his right forearm. “There is a wide world of colors that would perhaps suit you better.” She tapped her chin with her free index finger. “Though you do show great promise as one of the city’s traffic cones.”

Beast Boy howled with hysterics. Cyborg grinned and set down Nightwing’s plate of chocolate-chip waffles piled with whipped cream and syrup on the table. “Your lady’s brutal, man. No sympathy.” He sat down and promptly dug into his own colossal stack of bacon.

Nightwing’s pout was at war with the little smile he always got when Starfire plied him with affection, and eventually gave up the fight for a lost cause. “I’ll give it to her, I probably deserved that.”

“You _definitely_ did! You made me spar with Raven yesterday.” Beast Boy pointed a forkful of tofu waffle sternly at him. “She almost put me in a body cast!”

“Keep leaving your comic books on the bathroom sink and you’ll _wish_ you had a body cast,” Raven shot back before taking a sip of orange juice.

“Besides, Beast Boy, next up on the schedule, you’re sparring with _me,”_ Nightwing added with a grin.

“You’ll go easy on me as long as you’ve been all snuggled up with Starfire before training,” Beast Boy scoffed.

Starfire gasped in mock affrontment. “He will hardly be receiving snuggles with his hair looking like that!”

Cyborg snorted into his bacon, and Raven’s lip quirked up slightly. Nightwing spared Starfire one offended look before turning to Beast Boy. “Looks like you’re gonna be toast.”

Beast Boy shrugged. “Worth it.”

Raven rolled her eyes, though she smiled nonetheless. “You can use my shampoo when you take a shower. I put an enchantment on it so _someone _wouldn’t be able to mess with it.”

Nightwing smiled exasperatedly. “Thanks. At least _somewhere _is safe around here.”

“Maybe we should just convert that old safe room we made for Raven into a bathroom,” Cyborg joked. 

“I don’t think so,” Raven said seriously. “Where else are we gonna lock you guys when Star and I want to have a sleepover?”

“Hey, we only crashed it because we thought we heard the crime alert,” Nightwing said defensively through a mouthful of waffle.

“I did not realize that the crime alert sounded like Cyborg bemoaning that he did not have any photos of Raven in a mud mask for appropriate blackmail material.” Starfire sipped her apple juice serenely, having fully cleaned her plate already. 

Cyborg glowered at her. “Tattletale.”

-+-

Starfire watched a newly dark-haired Nightwing spar with Beast Boy from over in the weightlifting section. True to his word, he was not going easy in the slightest, though Starfire had to hand it to Beast Boy that he was keeping up fairly well, all things considered.

“Wish I could be mad at you for not spotting me,” Cyborg grunted to her left, “but they’re pretty fun to watch.” 

“Oh! You are correct, I apologize,” said Starfire, turning quickly back to him.

“Nah, it’s fine,” said Cyborg, pushing the weights back into locked position and letting his shoulders sag. “I just finished my last rep.”

“It is remarkable how both Beast Boy and Nightwing have matured,” Starfire observed.

“BB’s still a little grass stain,” Cyborg snorted. “And ‘Wing took _way_ too long to quit usin’ that knock-off hair gel.”

“Agreed,” Starfire said sagely, recalling the team’s collective sigh of relief when Jinx had managed to get Nightwing to start using a real product that didn’t make the bathroom smell faintly like turpentine. “But he has moved beyond the spiked days of his youth, and Beast Boy is a far more mature stain of grass than he once was.”

“We all are.” 

Cyborg turned and lifted an eyebow at Raven, who had floated down gracefully beside them. “Well, I know we’re still barely gettin’ used to you just appearin’ out of the shadows whenever you feel like it.”

Raven allowed him a smirk. “We’ve all grown up. Everything we’ve been through together has made us better individuals, and a better team.”

Starfire watched Beast Boy land a successful sweep kick, actually knocking Nightwing off his feet. Beast Boy’s eyes widened and he reached out a hand to help Nightwing up, which Nightwing took…only to playfully wrestle Beast Boy to the ground, grinning like a child.

She smiled. “Much has changed for the better.”

-+-

“Trouble!” Nightwing called as they all looked up at the now-flashing-red living room. He was already at one of the keyboards at the front of the room, a layout of the city on screen. He pulled up the security camera feed by the time they all came to his side, and Starfire could feel a stomach or two lurching at the image of the robotic drones, familiar black heads with orange circles on their faces.

Nightwing’s eyes narrowed. “Slade.”

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” said Cyborg. “What’s it been now? Two years?”

“More or less,” Nightwing muttered. He frowned. “Why is he attacking a school?”

“Waiddaminnit!” Beast Boy body-checked Nightwing out of the chair and stared at the screen. “That’s Terra’s school!”

_“What?”_ Nightwing shot up from the floor and stood over the chair, one hand on the back. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah dude, I’ve been there like a billion times!” Beast Boy looked sick. “I’ve been checking up on Terra every so often, but it’s been so quiet—I _knew _this would happen, I _knew_ he’d go after her!”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Beast Boy,” Nightwing said, not unkindly. He turned and began sprinting out of the Ops room, the others hot on his heels. “Let’s go, Titans!”

-+-

They arrived in the lobby of a desolate school building, with the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioner. Nightwing furrowed his brow. “Where is everyone? It’s 2:30 PM on a Wednesday.”

“Maybe a holiday?” Cyborg suggested. “Or some kinda big event, like a football game, and most of the kids are gone?”

“They’d shut down an entire school for _that?”_ Raven drawled.

“Hey, it’s a big deal!” Cyborg said defensively.

“_Focus_, guys,” said Nightwing. “If Slade’s targeting Terra’s school, there is a chance she might be here for some reason. Maybe some kind of extracurricular. And it’d be a good time to target her if she’s here when few other people are around. It’s a big building, so I hate to say it, but we’re gonna have to split up if we want to get this done quickly.” He looked around, narrowing his eyes at a map of the building on the lobby wall. “Starfire, take the top floor. Beast Boy, the second. Cyborg, you search the athletic wing. Raven, stay here and search the first floor. I’ll take the performing arts wing.”

The team nodded, and Starfire and Raven flew off while Beast Boy morphed into a bloodhound. Cyborg set his arm scanner and ran toward the east end of the school while Nightwing sprinted in the opposite direction.

-+-

It was…weird, frankly, to be in a school. It had been so long since he’d had to go to one that he’d mostly forgotten what it really felt like, and there was an almost creepy sense of déjà vu. At best he’d experienced high school vicariously through movies and TV, and even then he’d found it dull. The long hallways now framed in shadow, starkly contrasted with colorful banners and signs announcing elections and spirit weeks and all the rest of it—he understood why Cyborg had an attachment to places like this, and why Starfire was so curious about something so foreign to her, but all Nightwing could feel was stifled. 

He saw a sign pointing to an auditorium and took off there—it’d make sense if a school production was going on or something, that they’d take advantage of a day off to have a rehearsal. He wasn’t sure if Terra was into that sort of thing, but any starting point was better than none.

The closest door was locked; he picked it easily and strode in, looking around this way and that for signs of anyone. He frowned as he hoisted himself up onto the stage; it _was_ lit up, but the curtains were closed, and there was no question that the theatre was empty.

Suddenly he heard a faint creaking and rattling as the curtains slowly spread apart, and out stepped a familiar figure.

“Robin. How good to see you again.”

Nightwing stiffened. “Slade.”

“You’re looking well, I see,” he said smoothly. “And a lovely name change. _Nightwing._ How very grown-up.”

“You obviously haven’t, if you’re still hanging around teenagers,” Nightwing snapped, whipping out his bo staff and assuming a fighting stance. “Make this easier and hand over Terra.”

“Terra?” Slade’s eye narrowed. It would have been hard to tell for most people, but Nightwing had a guess he was smirking. “She and I will be having words soon enough. But it is nice to see you haven’t changed. I’m almost disappointed at how well you took the bait; I thought I’d taught you better.”

“I wasn’t exactly a model student,” Nightwing shot back. “_Where is she?”_

“At home, I assume,” Slade said smoothly. “Inclement weather day.” 

Because of course it was. 

Nightwing pulled out his communicator. “Titans, it’s a trick. Slade’s in the auditorium. Get here as soon as you can.”

“Calling in the lackeys so soon?” Slade asked silkily. “You never were able to beat me alone.”

“We still beat you.”

Nightwing lunged, swinging his bo staff at Slade’s face. Slade ducked under and aimed an uppercut at Nightwing’s stomach, and Nightwing sidestepped just in time with his right leg leading, then swept his left leg around and up toward Slade’s chest. Slade blocked it with his forearms and threw Nightwing’s leg backwards, but Nightwing rolled with it and landed in a crouch. He swept a kick outward and knocked Slade off his feet; Slade caught himself and flipped into a back walkover.

The two continued to trade blows, the sounds echoing off the high walls of the empty room. As much of an effort as he’d put into letting go of all of his hangups about Slade, Nightwing couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that they were so much more evenly matched. Between the training he’d received from the True Master and his own experience, he was giving Slade more of a fight than he ever had.

“Getting winded already?” Nightwing taunted, as Slade blocked a right hook to the jaw but took a roundhouse kick that sent him flying.

Slade crouched on the floor on all fours, and slowly stood up. “Quite the contrary.” He angled his head toward the door. “I believe some visitors are coming.”

Nightwing, too, could hear footsteps and voices growing louder and echoing off the hallway walls outside. “Looks like it’s _curtains_ for you.”

Slade’s demeanor didn’t change. “I’m _afraid…_you never had a good sense of humor.”

Nightwing’s eyes widened. “What are y—”

The mask suddenly popped upward to reveal a miniature TV screen—_another Sladebot, again?!_—but before Nightwing could say another word, the robot grabbed him and yanked him close to its head. Two tiny sprayheads on either side of the screen burst forth with a sickly green gas, enveloping Nightwing’s face.

“Just a little something I’ve been trying out,” said Slade through the screen as Nightwing fell to his knees, coughing madly. “I thought you would make a fitting guinea pig.”

-+-

The team burst through the auditorium door, but skidded to a halt at the sight of Nightwing, hunched on his hands and knees on the stage. His fingers were trembling as they gripped the hardwood floor, as if trying to gain traction, and his hair was draped over his face and dripping with sweat—and something...green? One of Slade’s robots stood over him with its mask flipped upward, watching silently as Nightwing groaned and hissed beneath it.

“_Nightwing!”_ Starfire broke out of her stupor and flew forward. Nightwing looked up at the sound, and she recoiled back in horror at his twisted, snarling, yet somehow utterly horrified expression. “Nightwing, wh—”

“No..._no!__”_ he cried.

Then he lunged. 

Starfire barely had time to brace herself. All she felt was a vice-like grip on her ankle and a hard yank out of the air before Nightwing spun around and hurled her full force against the wall.

_“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?”_ he roared.

Starfire fell to the floor and stared up at him, eyes wide.

The rest of the team stood rooted to the spot, staring between the faint impression Starfire made on impact and their leader, who stood hunchbacked and twitching, heaving breaths in and out like an animal.

“What’s happened to him?” whimpered Beast Boy.

“Whatever it is, that’s not him in there.” Cyborg turned to Raven. “You’re the one with the empathy link with him. Try to reach him through that. We’ll handle Slade.”

“Good,” Slade was saying through the head-mounted screen. “_Very _good, Night—”

Nightwing slammed both fists into the torso of the Sladebot, which immediately swung the mask back down over its face. That was about as good as he could get, though; out of point blank range, his swings became listless and erratic. Cyborg and Beast Boy joined the fray, but as soon as he laid eyes on them, Nightwing began to aim at them too.

“Not you too,” he rasped. “It _can’t _be. You _didn’t!”_

“Dude, we dunno what’s goin’ on, but whatever it is, we didn’t—_AAGH!”_ Nightwing had thrown himself onto Beast Boy, flailing about in a vain attempt to wrestle him to the stage floor. Beast Boy managed to wriggle free, and braced himself before sweep-kicking, knocking Nightwing off his feet again.

_Two for two, huh?_

“Don’t make me do it, man!” Cyborg cried, aiming his cannon. “Raven! You gotta—!”

_POW._

A glow of green light filled the room for a minute. Starfire stared down at Nightwing’s unconscious form, her eyes swimming with tears. “Where is Slade?” she asked tremulously.

“Musta run when ‘Wing started fightin’ me and Beast Boy.” Cyborg didn't look at her, turning to Raven instead. “Are you—”

“I’m fine.”

They all knew her well enough to know she didn’t look it—something about the look in her eyes as she glided toward them, staring down at Nightwing, told them that more had happened than met the eye. But they did not press her.

“What shall we do?” Starfire asked.

“Let’s take him back to Titans Tower,” said Cyborg. 

“Dude, remember the last time something weird happened with Slade and Nightwing was acting all crazy?” Beast Boy cried hysterically. “We can’t put him in the medical bay; he’ll just break out like he did last time!”

“I do remember,” Cyborg replied grimly. “And I’m not thinkin’ we should keep him in the medbay.” He turned to Raven. “I’m thinkin’ somewhere a little safer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My high school actually did have weekdays where the entire afternoon was cleared for a major sporting event. It's sort of like how college campuses shut down for the first football game of the season, except it was easier to get into the art studios.


	4. Growing Pains, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starfire has some business to attend to.

_I am the thing that keeps you up at night._

“No…_no_…”

_The evil that haunts every dark corner of your mind._

“Stop—leave them alone—” 

_I will never rest._

“I won’t let you take them!”

_And neither will you._

“I’LL _KILL YOU!”_

The thrashing was horrible. She could not watch, and she wished she could not hear. It was incredible and terrible, how many different methods they had to use at once to contain him. Even now, as she stood behind the glass overlooking a safe room built to protect against the army of a demon, she did not know how long they could hold out. 

Beside her, Beast Boy looked sick, and could not seem to meet her eyes. She could not blame him. She was not even bruised by her impact against the auditorium wall—she tended to recover quickly—but though it had been ugly to feel it, she could not imagine it had been much better to see it.

It certainly had not been easy to watch him throw himself at Cyborg and Beast Boy, screaming with fury and…something more primal. Something _terrified._ Like an animal that had been cornered and was determined to go out swinging. The way he was fighting now, against Cyborg and Raven.

And Raven…Starfire almost did not want to know what made Raven look that way, what made the usual neutral stare of someone who had defeated Trigon become so frightened.

The doors _sshhhk_ed open, and Cyborg trudged in looking worse for wear and carrying a syringe full of blood. Raven trailed behind him, still with that haunted look in her eyes.

“Y’all shoulda waited for us up in the medbay,” Cyborg said, no real bite in his tone.

“We weren’t gonna just leave you,” Beast Boy said quietly. “You might’ve needed our help.”

It was only half the reason and they all knew it. 

“Let’s go.”

-+-

Beast Boy finally broke the silence after what could have been minutes or hours. “So…what’s the story?” 

“Hard to say,” Cyborg replied tonelessly. “There’s definitely that same drug Slade put in his mask, but there’s somethin’ else that’s been added in there. And I don’t recognize any of its chemical makeup.”

“So we’re back to square one,” Beast Boy muttered. He was watching the monitor looking into the saferoom, his eyes deadened as he watched Nightwing throw himself at the walls and intermittently pitch forward with shaking shoulders. Somehow, the lack of sound was worse. 

“Perhaps not.” Starfire turned slowly to a corner of the med bay. “Raven,” she began gently, “I am sure it is…difficult to recount. But you must have tapped into your mental link with Nightwing, correct? Was there anything you saw that was different from the last time?”

Raven met her eyes, and Starfire was startled to see just how frightened she looked. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she whispered. “It was us—but it _wasn’t_. We looked…monstrous and deformed, horrible glowing eyes and dripping—_fangs_, rotting faces and mouths and eyes where they shouldn’t be and—”

“Okay, okay, we get it!” Beast Boy hugged himself, ears lowered as if to try to drown Raven out. 

“I had already started focusing in on that link when we found him,” Raven said, as though Beast Boy had not spoken. “I saw what he saw, Starfire. When he—when he threw you. You were the worst. It was like—” She shook her head. Starfire approached her carefully, surruptitiously handing her a tissue off a countertop. “It’s no wonder he attacked you—any of us. He couldn’t recognize us anymore. I’ve­—” She took a shuddering breath. “I’ve seen _demons_ less frightening.”

“Now hold on a minute.” Cyborg stood up and walked across to the medbay’s research database computer. “Last time it was just visions of Slade when he wasn’t actually there. But this…this sounds like some witness reports Nightwing and I read about somethin’ completely different.”

“About what?” Beast Boy asked.

“Just lemme check.” Cyborg stared at the screen as the information for which he had just searched loaded. “And—yep.” He stood up suddenly. “Looks like we found where that stuff came from. BB, Star, y’all go track down Slade. Raven, you stay here and help me. I gotta make an emergency call.” 

“Where?” Starfire asked, gliding behind him as he strode out of the medbay down the hall toward Ops.

“Gotham City.”

-+-

“Dead end. Big surprise.” Beast Boy lay down and stretched out at the end of the dock, heedless to the dirt and grime. Starfire could not blame him; he had been in various animal morphs tracking the residual scent of the Sladebot for about an hour now.

“I am sure we will be able to find something,” Starfire said, more to herself than to Beast Boy. She sat down next to him and dangled her feet over the edge, staring at their glittering reflection in the water. She had never hated the sun more—it should not be so bright when Nightwing was suffering.

She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no shame in tears, but Nightwing would say that there was no time for them, and she agreed. She simply needed to take a break before continuing the search, to perhaps refocus herself.

But he was _hurt_ and he was _screaming_ and once again that _monster_ had invaded his mind, never willing to try to take him in a fair fight because Nightwing could win now and they all knew it, and he was off in a secret location somewhere preening over his ill-gotten victory—as he always did, targeting only the vulnerable and frightened— 

—and Nightwing had never been so frightened, snarling and punching wildly at the air, his mind conjuring hideous images of all of them, his worst fear come true—that something evil had won, had _broken_ them all, and he was helpless, all while his real friends could do nothing but watch him thrashing, screaming, _sobbing—_

In an instant Beast Boy’s arms were around her, holding her close and resting his head on her shoulder as she choked back tears. “C’mon, Star,” he murmured. “Let it out.”

She lurched forward, tears streaming down her face and cries splitting her throat. She took a while to realize that she was burying her face in a green lion’s mane that now lay in her lap, and the soothing and compassionate gesture only made her cry harder. The lion simply rubbed its head gently against her arm.

She could feel herself slowing down and pulled back, taking deep breaths and wiping at her face, only to notice to her chagrin a considerable amount of gunk in the lion’s mane. She reached forward tentatively, but the lion merely gave her a soft look and morphed into a dolphin, which leaped gracefully into the bay and resurfaced a few seconds later. She could not help but giggle—it was an adorable creature.

She stood up and began to look around. There _had _to be something here that she was missing. Behind her, the dolphin jumped back up onto the docks, turning midleap into a dog that shook itself dry before morphing back into Beast Boy. “You feelin’ any better?” he asked, walking up to stand beside her.

“Slightly,” she said, smiling at him. “Thank you.” She tipped her head to one side. “Are you?”

He sighed. “I dunno,” he mumbled. “I just…I’m worried about him. I hate seeing him like that. He’s…he’s just been fighting Slade for so long. I wish he could be here with us to bring him down. Doesn’t feel right.”

“No,” Starfire said quietly, gazing aimlessly off toward the warehouses in front of them. “It does not.” 

A flash of white caught her eye against the stony grays of the loading area in front of the warehouses. She narrowed her eyes and glided toward it—perhaps it was nothing, but it was better to be thorough.

“What is it?” Beast Boy asked.

Starfire stooped down to see what looked like a piece of paper that had been smashed against the ground. “I am unsure,” she said slowly, “but it may be useful—do you know what this is?” 

Beast Boy squinted at the end of her pointer finger. “Looks like an old shipping label. Must’ve fallen off a crate or some—waaaiiiit a minute.” He crouched to the ground. “Maybe it’s from Gotham! I can’t totally read the return address—but it looks like it starts with a G! And maybe an O—or is it a Q? D, maybe?”

Starfire’s eyes widened, and she too crouched down to get a closer look. “It is very smudged, but it appears to be short enough to be six letters. But why would a notorious criminal send a dangerous drug through ordinary postal services? Surely it would be discovered and traced back to them.” 

“Probably so it looks less suspicious,” said Beast Boy. “Drug smuggling happens all the time, and Gotham’s way shady enough that it was probably easy. If they hide this stuff in plain sight, they can do totally normal shipping and delivery so it looks like it’s legit, and plenty of people can still be paid off to keep their mouths shut if they find out.” He moved his head over the middle of the label. “Now we just need to figure out what the delivery address was.”

Starfire sat back on her haunches and stared. Whether he had learned this from working with Nightwing or the Doom Patrol, she did not know; but it was still an impressive display of knowledge coming from Beast Boy. “But surely no one would be so foolish as to have illegal product delivered directly to their place of residence?”

“If it’s disguised well enough, it’ll just look like a normal delivery and no one will even ask.” Beast Boy studied the label for a minute longer, then pulled out his communicator and typed something into it. “I can’t totally figure it out, but the closest match says it’s a research lab downtown.”

Realization dawned. “And such a place must surely receive strange product, thus eliminating more suspicion about the delivery!”

“Sounds like it,” Beast Boy replied grimly. “May be another dead end, or even a trap, but it’s our only lead.”

-+-

Beast Boy folded his arms over his chest. “You are _not_ going in alone.”

“Someone will need to have contacted the law enforcement in time to keep Slade from running away,” Starfire said, trying to keep her voice cool as she stared at the outside of the building. The knowledge that Slade was _right there,_ that Beast Boy had seenhim in his reconnaissance—perhaps a hundred feet away, if that—gave her a craving to set the whole building ablaze with a single well-placed starbolt. But such recklessness often gave way to foolish mistakes, and Nightwing would surely wish for Slade to be brought to justice legally.

“Hel-_lo?_ Did you not hear me? The literal fly on the wall? Slade’s got a map with targets all over Jump; he’s probably gonna unleash that gas on everyone and hold the city hostage! We gotta take him down; we don’t have time to call the cops!”

Starfire turned to face Beast Boy, breathing evenly while her eyes resisted the urge to glow.“He will need to be taken into custody as soon as possible, and I will not require assistance to subdue him.” 

Beast Boy stared at her. “Y’know,” he said slowly, “I kinda feel like I wanna see this go down, but okay. I’ll take care of it.” He morphed into a peregrine falcon and took to the skies.

Starfire stared down at the lab building again. She took a deep breath to focus her emotions, the way Raven had taught her. _We seek justice, not vengeance. Do not allow hatred to consume you._

_Righteous fury is another matter._

-+-

“How very clever you must have been to find me.” His voice echoed across the cavernous walls. He was facing away from her, sitting at a table with a spread of papers and blueprints in front of him. She did not react to this; she had long ago ceased to be surprised at the ability of some humans to detect a presence when not looking.

“I assume your friends are keeping watch over your…fearless leader?” The emphasis on _fearless _nearly made her blood boil, but she kept her center. Releasing emotions was a thing to be calculated.

Slade turned toward her, tutting softly. “How heartbreaking that you should not be with him. Surely now he longs for you, _pines_ and _begs_ for—_AAAGGH!”_

She slammed into him at the speed of a bus, indenting him into the wall, and lifted him up by the collar with one hand while the other sparked with a starbolt. “I am sorry to disappoint you,” she growled, “but I am stronger than I look.”

_SMASH._ She hurled three starbolts at the adjacent, now debris-laden wall, where Slade was pushing himself up from where she had thrown him again. For a man who had taken two powerful blunt force hits, he was certainly resilient—though she did not doubt that the laboratory’s resources had been used for more drugs than one.

But he was still a human man. Absent of Trigon’s powers, and with the two extra years for Starfire’s powers and training to mature, he was no match for her.

He was able to evade the first bolt and the second was a near miss, but the third struck true square in his torso, knocking him back again. He looked up at her, and she felt a wonderful and _horrible _sense of joy to see the one eye of his mask widen.

She sent a volley of starbolts at him, and he stumbled away toward the stairs. She let him run, sending starbolts for him to dodge, waiting for him to reach the catwalk fifty feet up. As he ducked beneath three concussive blasts, she shot out twin bolts from her eyes straight at the flimsy metal plates beneath him, bringing him crashing to the floor amid a pile of smoldering crumpled steel.

He stood slowly, straining all the way. Starfire gave him his time, gliding toward him predatorily, her eyes aglow. “How does it feel?” she snarled. “To have preyed on the weak and the vulnerable, only now to become the prey yourself?”

He staggered over toward another set of stairs, and she shot two more eye bolts to cut the landings out. “Perhaps you now understand what Nightwing felt, when he was Robin, and you had him cornered, threatening our lives in exchange for his obedience?”

He grabbed desperately at a railing that had come loose, brandishing it as a staff, and she sent a bolt almost lazily at his feet, throwing him back hard against the wreckage of the stairs. “Was this not what you did to Terra, breaking her hope like you broke her control?”

She was twenty feet away from his slumped form when he raised his head. “Would you truly… attempt to kill me?” he rasped. “I would think—you would leave the honor…to the man who has suffered—most at my hand.” 

Though it was a question she had considered, it did give her pause. _Should_ she deny Nightwing the right to defeat his most hated foe, once and for all?

But she saw the sickly green syringe in Slade’s trembling hand, and shot it across the floor with a starbolt just in time. She did not wish to know what was in it, nor did it matter. There would never be a fair fight with this man.

She stood over him and lifted him up again. “I do not need to kill you,” she said coldly. “And you are not worth the effort.”

_POW._

Slade’s head lolled to one side and Starfire pulled back her fist, pressing her hand to the hole in the broken plate over his chest. His heartbeat was faint, but he would last long enough.

-+-

As the police carried Slade away, Starfire opened her beeping communicator to see Cyborg with a relieved smile on his face. “Hey, Star.”

“Cyborg! You were successful?”

“Yep! He’s gonna make a full recovery.” 

_“Wonderful!” _Starfire leaped into a backflip and continued to float, sighing in relief. “Thank X’Hal.” 

“Apparently our boy’s even tougher than we thought,” Cyborg said proudly. “I mean he held out against that first drug to begin with, but I’ve read a lot worse happening to people who get a face full of Fear Toxin. Where’s Slade?” 

“Out cold in a cop van.” Beast Boy joined the call from where he had just finished speaking to a police officer and walked toward Starfire. “What’d you do to him, Star?”

“Merely what I needed to.” She held out a hand to Beast Boy, smiling broadly. “I shall fly us both back to our home. You are tired, and I wish to see Nightwing.”

He took her hand. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially I had a scene where the team discusses the situation with Batman to more explicitly spell out what happened, but the chapter was long enough as it was, and since I'm trying to keep a similar tone to the animated series, I wanted to hold to a similar approach to the broader DC universe—passing references without actual appearances. (Part of the reason for that is various legal embargoes in DC animation at the time, of course, but I'm of the opinion that the show was all the better for them.) I'll probably bring in some Justice League members at a later point, purely for indulgence's sake, but this wasn't the story for it.
> 
> There will also be a recovery/denouement chapter. It was initially going to be part of this one, but I thought I should devote some time to the investigation to give Beast Boy and Starfire some character moments. I kind of like the idea that Beast Boy knows a lot more about the criminal underworld than he lets on because of his past with the Doom Patrol; he just chooses to indulge himself in being a 'normal teenager' because he never got to be one and Robwing tends to handle that stuff.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure how the Fear Toxin works in every adaptation, but I based the effects of this variation partially on the one from 'Batman: Hush'. (A movie which, incidentally, I really liked, although I could have just been blinded by the finger stripes.)


	5. Growing Pains, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing finally accepts help from the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's an updating schedule??? time is an illusion

“B, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.”

Beast Boy stopped pacing and met Cyborg’s eyes. “Sorry.”

Cyborg shrugged. “No biggie. I get it.”

“Wish I could clear my head as easy as those two.” Beast Boy jerked his thumb over to where Starfire and Raven both sat cross-legged in mid-air, quietly reciting Raven’s meditative chant.

“I already told you, ‘Wing is gonna be fine,” Cyborg said gently.

“I know, but…I’m still worried. I wish there was something else I could do to help him.” Beast Boy cast a long look at Nightwing’s unconscious body on the hospital bed. “Why didn’t the antidote work right away?”

“It did,” Cyborg said, “but he was also under a lotta stress and he was exhausted. We didn’t know how long he’d be out, so we hooked him up with the IV just in case. Seriously, he’s gonna be okay. Can’t you shift into one of your animal forms to help calm yourself down? You’re gonna worry yourself into one of these beds if you keep this up.”

A lightbulb went off in Beast Boy’s mind, and he shifted into a fluffy, short-haired green tabby cat. He leaped gracefully onto Nightwing’s bed with a squeaky little grunt and gave Cyborg a questioning sort of look; when Cyborg nodded with a curious expression, the cat padded up to Nightwing’s shoulder, carefully curled up next to him, and began to purr. Cyborg frowned, but Nightwing’s vitals remained steady, and Beast Boy seemed to be lulling himself into a nap. It was a little weird, to be sure, but the cat form had proven what Beast Boy had termed its “profound cuddlitude” in the past, and there was still nothing quite as weird as being saved from drowning by hitching a ride in the mouth of a green humpback whale.

“What is he doing?” Raven asked suddenly, having slipped out of her meditative trance and glided over to stand next to Cyborg.

Cyborg managed to pass off his startled jump as a shrug. “Helpin’ out in his own way.”

-+-

Neither Cyborg nor Raven seemed to be able to bring themselves to chide Starfire for remaining in the medbay through the night. While they reached out to the Jump City Police Department for more follow-up on Slade, Starfire and Beast Boy monitored Nightwing—or rather, Starfire checked every so often to see if something was out of the ordinary and Beast Boy slept in cat form. For the most part, she simply rested her head on the bed next to Nightwing’s right shoulder and threaded her left fingers through his hair.

It was a sort of unspoken rule, she mused—whether he was Robin or Nightwing, it was unwise to bring up his vulnerabilities. Starfire had broken through those walls in a way no one else was quite able to, and was fully aware that the issue was as much related to his insecurities as it was to his pride, but attempting to convince him to acknowledge that to the rest of the team had historically been comparable to the pulling of teeth. Admitting to insecurity was a weakness in and of itself, or so he said. In its own dark way, the interchange between Nightwing’s pride and his self-doubt fascinated her.

This would be a rare opportunity for those vulnerabilities to slip through, she guessed—not so much in his reaction to the toxin, but here and now, as he slept and recovered. He looked…younger, and softer than usual—cute and boyish, rather than the mature and handsome way he presented himself. It was a sight he had always hated for anyone else to see. There was much about this that had changed over the last two years, certainly—at the very least, he more readily let Starfire in—but she dearly hoped that one day he would understand that his friends did not hate his humanity.

She also hoped he would understand that someone else had defeated Slade.

It was a subject she had not allowed herself to mull over all evening, but it seemed to have snuck in amid the beeping of the monitors and the gentle whirr from the vents, and was now all she could think about. Nightwing had learned his lesson—Slade did not consume him nearly as much he once did. But he was a warrior at heart, with a warrior’s sense of honor. Starfire could not bring herself to regret what she had done, but she hoped Nightwing would not resent her for it.

All concerns were forgotten immediately as Nightwing began to stir..

“Unnghh…Beast Boy…?” The little green tabby looked up at the noise and stretched its head forward, headbutting Nightwing on the cheek and purring. Nightwing smiled and scratched it behind the ear before catching Starfire’s eye. “Star,” he breathed. “You’re—you’re okay. What happened?”

“Shhh,” she whispered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “You are safe.”

-+-

“Do you remember anything?” Raven asked.

“I—bits and pieces,” Nightwing said, brow furrowing. “I know that Sladebot hit me with some kind of gas, and I remember…visions or something, and a lot of screaming, and—” His eyes widened suddenly, and he let out a sharp gasp and clutched his face. “I—_no_, that can’t be—” He looked up at Cyborg. “What _happened?”_

“That gas had the same stuff from Slade’s mask years ago mixed in with Fear Toxin,” Cyborg said quietly. “Scanners say your system’s clear now though, and we made an antidote.” 

Nightwing’s brows furrowed sharply. “How in the world did Slade get his hands on Fear Toxin?”

“Smuggled it in straight from Gotham,” said Beast Boy. “He tested it on you, and then he was gonna release it all over the city.”

Nightwing’s eyes widened. _“What?_ We gotta—”

“Take it easy, man.” Cyborg held out his hands placatingly. “Slade’s in custody. Star and BB found him and took him in.”

Starfire winced. She had been hoping to break the news to him later.

“Mostly Starfire,” said Beast Boy, grinning. “Man, you shoulda seen him once she got through with him! He’ll be feelin’ that for a while.”

Nightwing turned to Starfire. “You did that?” 

Starfire could not meet his eyes. “I—yes, but—”

Nightwing sank back into his pillows with a sigh of relief. “Then we know for sure he’ll be out for awhile. Thanks, Star.” 

Starfire stared at him, but did not press the issue. The conversation could wait.

Raven walked forward and held up a bottle containing a faintly glowing inky-purple liquid. “I’ve prepared an elixir for dreamless sleep,” she said, pouring some of the contents into a medicine cup. “Take this much every night for at least three days, but no longer than a week; otherwise, it could affect your ability to sleep at all.”

“Alright,” Nightwing said. “Do I need to stay here overnight?”

“Yeah, I’d like you to, just to be safe,” Cyborg said apologetically. “And give yourself at least a day of just pure bedrest, alright? Your body’s been under a lot of stress.” 

A familiar look of annoyance crossed Nightwing’s face before he shook his head, as if to clear it.. “It sure feels like it. You guys should go get some sleep, too. It looks like you’ve been through a lot.”

“I will stay here with you,” Starfire said.

“Star, no—”

“_Please._”

Nightwing’s eyes widened at the tone, and his expression softened considerably. “Okay.”

The other three slowly began to file out of the medbay until Beast Boy stopped. “Actually, I…kinda don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Cyborg breathed a sigh of relief. “I didn’t wanna be the first one to say it.”

“It’d be nice to have the company,” Raven said quietly.

They all looked at Nightwing, who couldn’t resist a smile. “Y’know what? I’d like that.”

“WOO-HOO! Slumber party in the medbay!” Beast Boy cheered. “I’ll pop the popcorn if Star wants to pick some chick flicks!”

“You mean _you’ll _pick the chick flicks,” Cyborg said as he and Beast Boy began racing out of the room. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed Speedy givin’ you beauty tips—”

“You make better mud masks than _he_ does! You totally researched it!”

“Yeah, ‘cause he got the chemistry wrong—” 

“Boys,” Raven muttered, gliding through the door in their wake. 

Nightwing reached up and brushed his fingers against Starfire’s cheek. “Starfire…did I really—attack you?”

Starfire pressed her lips together. “I—yes.” She took his hand, marveling silently at how small hers felt in comparison. “Do not blame yourself. You were not really you.”

“I know, but…”

“Shhh.” Starfire brushed a lock of hair out of Nightwing’s face with her free hand. “It is alright. I have healed, we will have a party of slumber with our friends, and you will recover.” She pressed a light kiss to his forehead. 

He smiled up at her and, before she realized it, peeled off his mask.

“You are going without it?” she asked.

“Just don’t feel like I need it,” he said, stretching up and gently bumping his forehead onto hers. She closed her eyes and relaxed against him, idly rubbing her thumb back and forth over his cheek. 

Nightwing hissed in pain.

“What is it?” Starfire asked, yanking her hands away as if they had been burned. 

“Sorry—you just touched a bruise on my face.”

Starfire angled her head for a better look. Sure enough, there was a bruise on his cheek in a place the mask would normally cover. “I am truly sorry, Nightwing, I did not intend to—”

“’S okay, Star,” Nightwing said, taking her hands. “Really. Just a little sore.” 

“Are you certain?”

“I am.” He frowned for a minute as if in thought, took a deep breath, and smirked up at her. “Maybe you should, ah, kiss it better?”

Starfire gaped at him, a blush rising to her cheeks, then smiled. “If you insist.”

She pressed her lips gingerly to the light purple splotch and pulled back to see Nightwing’s lopsided grin. “Can’t believe that worked,” he said.

“You are becoming quite cheeky,” Starfire scolded playfully.

“But you like it.”

She smiled and looked away. “Perhaps I do.”

He put a hand on her cheek and turned her face to meet her eyes. “Star—”

The moment was broken as footsteps thundered down the hall and Cyborg and Beast Boy could be heard yelling indistinctly. Nightwing and Starfire looked up as they burst through the door of the medbay, Cyborg holding a small basin full of popcorn and Beast Boy carrying a tray with five mugs of cocoa. Raven followed them, levitating two DVDs in the air.

“Alright, we’ve got _Singin’ in the Rain _and _The Music Man._ Which one’s first?”

The two favorites Nightwing would not admit to, Starfire noted. Raven truly did notice everything.

-+-

Nightwing’s recuperation proceeded surprisingly smoothly. There were some moments when he appeared to protest the team’s careful treatment, but on the whole he was taking it well, and he was clearly grateful for their efforts.

Raven’s dreamless sleep potion had been helpful. He had also been joining her in meditation; though Nightwing was leery of the quiet, Raven insisted that it would aid in allowing him to face and overcome the trauma. 

Nightwing did not directly address the presence of the green cat sleeping next to him when he had awoken in the medbay, but the gesture did not go unnoticed. Beast Boy did several most amusing dances over the full vegan breakfast spread to which he awoke the morning after Nightwing was permitted to be up and about. For her part, Starfire pretended not to notice the unopened bottle of pink dye in Nightwing’s wastebasket when she came to bring him some hot cocoa.

Cyborg handled much of the additional legal paperwork and witness statements from the team. Nightwing’s fingers twitched every so often when the subject was addressed, but he did not protest. And if Cyborg went a bit easier on him at video games for that first week or so, no one was planning on mentioning it.

-+-

“I wish you did not have to testify,” Starfire said as she lay next to him on the couch. 

Nightwing stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “So do I, Star,” he murmured, unconsciously nuzzling his head on her shoulder. “But that’s how the system’s supposed to work.”

Starfire combed her free hand gently through his hair. “And you are not angry with me?”

“No,” Nightwing said slowly. “Should I be?”

“I…you know that I defeated Slade. I was so furious that he had done such an evil thing to you. But…” She pressed her lips together, choosing her words carefully. “He was always your enemy. You suffered the most from him. You deserved the chance to defeat him.” 

“Honestly? I thought about it.” He released her hand and reached up to brush her face. “But y’know what I said, years ago, about what’s different between Slade and me?”

“That he does not have any friends.” Starfire leaned into his touch and smiled at the memory.

Nightwing smiled cheekily. “Just kinda seems like poetic justice that he’d get taken down by the one thing he always said was worthless.” 

Starfire pressed her forehead to his. “I love you.”

His smile turned giddy and delighted as a faint blush spread over his cheeks, and he pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “Love you too.”

She giggled. “You are most adorable. You are aware that we have exchanged the ‘I love yous’ before, yes?”

“Well, yeah! It’s just—y’know, it—” He ducked his head shyly. “It’s you.”

She reached out with both hands and tilted up his face. “What is the phrase? ‘The more things change, the more they stay the same’?”

“It—you—shut up,” he grumbled, turning his face away from her.

She laughed aloud. “Are you attempting to hide that you are flustered? You are hardly being inconspicuous.”

He looked up at her, at first appearing quite offended, and then he smirked. “How’s this for inconspicuous?”

She let out a muffled squeak of delight when he kissed her, this time for far longer. No words needed to pass between them when he pulled back, and they remained cuddled together as the sun sank low over the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon that robwing loves him some musicals but will never acknowledge it.
> 
> i wrote a simple 3-part fic and i feel EXHAUSTED. how are some of y'all out here writing 7k word chapters on longfic?


	6. Date With Density

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dresses are worn, jaws are dropped, and insecurities are brought center stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said to myself i'd write an obligatory formalwear chapter where robin is a dumdum. how it turned into this i will never know.

“‘What are you doing?’”

“‘Stargazing.’”

Okay, looks a little too playboy. Soften the smile, maybe?

“‘What are you doing?’”

“‘Stargazing.’”

Much better. Now a _slight_ upturn of the eyebrows…

“‘What are you doing?’”

“‘Stargazing.’”

_Perfect._

Robin grinned and did a small victorious double-fist-pump. The tux was tailored perfectly (and worn for a much more pleasant occasion this time), he could practically see his masked reflection in his shoes, he’d eaten half a box of mints, deodorant was applied and fresh, cologne was _just_ strong enough without being too much, and he was absolutely nailing the charming one-liner. And all with fifteen minutes to spare.

He gave himself another once-over in the mirror before leaving his room and making his way down to Ops. Immediately he caught sight of Cyborg, dressed to the nines with arms draped casually over the couch; at Robin’s entrance he stood, arm raised.

“Lookin’ sharp, Rob,” he said with a grin.

Robin laughed and slapped a high-five back. “Thanks, Cyborg. You don’t clean up so bad yourself.” He turned to Beast Boy and Raven, sitting at the dinner table and eating microwave mac and cheese in their regular uniforms. “You guys sure you—"

“Yes, Mom, for the gajillionth time, we’ll be _fine_,” Beast Boy said, rolling his eyes. “Watch for alerts, let you guys know if we need backup. Just go to the stupid gala already.”

“Hey,” Cyborg said sharply. “Don’t talk to Robin like that.”

Beast Boy’s head snapped up, and he looked sheepish.

Cyborg smirked. “_I’m_ the team mom. Show me some respect.”

Beast Boy cackled. “Sorry, Cy—uh, Mom.”

“That’s more like it.” Cyborg put one hand on his hip and wagged his finger. “Now you kids make sure you clean your plates and go to bed on time.”

Raven looked up with no discernible change in expression. “Can we at least have ice cream after dinner?”

“Yeah, but you know the rule—one scoop only.”

“Uughhhh,” Beast Boy whined dramatically. “You never let us do _anything!”_

Raven sighed. “Parents are the _worst.”_

Robin laughed, then looked up at the main door. “Where’s Starfire?”

“Whats’a matter, Rob?” Beast Boy waggled his eyebrows. “Got a hot date tonight?”

Robin’s face flushed, but he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. “Shut up.”

Cyborg slapped him on the back. “Man, you’ve been together three weeks and she still hasn’t broken you outta that?”

“Maybe it’s like puppy training,” Beast Boy mused. Cyborg let out a guffaw and doubled over.

Still smiling in spite of himself, Robin simply shook his head good-naturedly and leaned against the counter. It was true, it had only been three weeks since Tokyo, and it felt so strange that already they were attending a black tie event together—but a gala thrown by the city to celebrate the Titans seemed like a fun release. And it was an appropriate way to maintain a positive public image, given that taxpayer dollars were partially funding their operation.

…Oh, who was he kidding? He wanted to see Starfire in a dress and sweep her off her feet properly. They’d be in a ballroom surrounded by some of the most important people in the city, on the third floor of a historic mansion, with a performance from a live orchestra...the whole setting would be a rare and golden opportunity. He’d been to events like that before, of course, but he’d never looked forward to it—before her.

Which was why tonight had to go _flawlessly._ Perfect tux, perfect smell, perfect charming lines, perfect first dance…hopefully, perfect romantic kiss under the starlight.

He grinned in spite of himself. Knowing his luck, there’d be plenty of obstacles to this perfect evening, maybe even some kind of villain attack, but he’d figure it out if he needed to. He didn’t need a ten-step plan or anything—just get the right variables under control and let things play out from there. And Beast Boy and Raven were more than capable of holding down the fort. (The official explanation for their absence, given that he couldn’t say things like “I would rather fight my father again than talk to a bunch of sleazy idiots for five minutes” and “Dude, Super Sunshine Monkeys DLC just came out! You think I’m skippin’ that to wear a penguin suit to some dumb party?” to the city council.)

Everything was gonna be great_._

“Greetings, friends! It is almost time to leave, yes?”

Oh.

Oh, _no._

Cyborg grinned. “You’re right on time, Star! You look great.”

Starfire beamed. “Truly?”

Beast Boy’s eyes widened. “Great? She looks amazing!”

Raven turned in her seat at the kitchen booth. Given that she had aided Starfire in finding the dress, it came as little surprise that she looked nice in it—a shimmering strapless navy blue gown that made her look like the night sky itself, a sash wrapping around her waist that flowed into the skirt. She had done her hair in an elegant updo, with small curled locks framing her face, and dangly, sparkly earrings and a matching necklace completed the ensemble. Raven had to admit, seeing someone embrace an aesthetic so earnestly almost made her want to try it out for herself—not badly enough to talk to a politician for longer than ten seconds, but at least Starfire seemed pleased.

“Looks good,” she said with a nod.

Thankfully, at least someone understood when Raven gave high praise; Starfire delightedly clasped her hands in front of her, eyes round as saucers. “Thank you, Raven!”

She turned to the kitchen island and her brow immediately wrinkled in confusion. “Erm, Robin…?”

Robin had not uttered a word—or at least, not a word in any language Starfire was familiar with, though the sounds he was making did remind her of some of the carnivorous plants she had encountered on a trip to a Zydrox moon with Galfore. The lenses of his mask were perfect circles, somehow; he was impulsively pulling at his collar every few seconds or so, and his face was flushed scarlet.

Humans were far too susceptible to heat exhaustion.

Cyborg smirked. “He likes it, Star.” He slapped a hand on Robin’s shoulder and began steering him toward the door. “Now c’mon, we gotta pick up Sarah.”

“Oh!” Concern for Robin evaporating (as he was evidently at least able to walk with assistance), Starfire turned to wait for them to walk out together. “I am eager to see her again! I cannot wait to ask her about her studies—I am sure she will have thrilling tales to tell!”

As Cyborg and Starfire chatted back and forth, Cyborg half-dragging Robin out of the room, Beast Boy raised his eyebrows at Raven. “You’ve got that mental bond thingie with Robin, right? What was goin’ on when his brain melted?”

“I can’t just read his mind, you know,” Raven replied with an eyeroll as the doors hissed shut. She stirred a few macaroni noodles over in the melted cheese before smirking. “For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure he was at least _trying_ to say words.”

-+-

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman!” Sarah said as Cyborg pulled open the passenger door.

“Only the best for my best girl,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Sarah rolled her eyes with a smile as she sat down. “Now if that isn’t the biggest line I ever heard—!”

“Doesn’t make it not true.” Cyborg closed the door, walked around to the other side, got in, and pressed a surprise kiss to Sarah’s cheek, all in what looked like one fluid move. “Can’t say it enough—you look fantastic.”

Sarah beamed, a soft blush dusting her cheeks. “You’re a sweetheart. Now let’s get to this gala.”

She turned in her seat as Cyborg began to pull away from the curb. “Hey, Robin. Hey Star—oh, Starfire, you look so beautiful!” she gasped.

Starfire’s eyes shone. “As do you,” she said sincerely. “And your home looks quite lovely as well.”

“Thanks! Maybe you could come over sometime when I’m home?”

“Oh, yes please! I love our tower, but I so enjoy exploring other aspects of Earth culture.”

“Hey, you could even meet my cat!”

Starfire let out a drawn-out gasp. “You have a cat? How _glorious!”_

Sarah jerked back in surprise, but giggled at Starfire’s enthusiasm. “Yeah! His name’s Pancake and he’s the sweetest thing! I’ve had him since I was a kid. Even Cyborg thinks he’s a cutie.”

“Hey now, jury’s still out on that,” Cyborg said with a smile. “I just said I could see the appeal. I’m not a convert yet.”

“Sure,” Sarah drawled. “That’s why you sneak in his favorite treats when you think I’m not looking.”

“Gotta charm my way into your heart somehow, right?”

“You like it when he headbutts you, you big goof.”

“I’m gonna plead the Fifth on that one.” Cyborg grinned. “It is the Fifth one, right, Rob?”

Sarah turned around at the unusually quiet Robin, who was almost determinedly staring out the window. “Um, Robin…? Are you okay?”

Robin’s head snapped up, still oddly angled toward the driver’s side and barely looking at Sarah out of his periphery. “Huh? Oh, um. Sorry, I…wasn’t listening. What’s, uh, what’s up?”

Cyborg snickered. “I was just askin’ if it’s the Fifth Amendment for right to remain silent. I always forget if it’s that one or the trial one.”

“It is the Fifth for silence under questioning and an attorney,” Starfire cut in. “The Sixth is for the right to a fair and speedy trial.”

“Wow, nice, Starfire!” said Sarah.

“Better step it up, Rob, your girl’s got an edge on ya.”

Robin let out a polite sort of laugh, then turned his head to stare out the window again. Sarah and Starfire exchanged quizzical looks, but Starfire merely shrugged and said nothing, so Sarah didn’t push it.

-+-

He’d at least managed to take her arm when they walked into the ballroom. That was something.

“Look at her!”

“Is that…?”

“It has to be. She’s _gorgeous.”_

“More than usual, even!”

He was used to whispers like that whenever Starfire met new people. She was radiant; that sort of thing was bound to happen. Everyone was staring at her, and he couldn’t blame them. She really did look indescribable. He felt sort of like a background element—which normally, he was okay with, content to simply watch Starfire glow, but now…well, now the ease with which he could fade into the crowd that was beginning to surround her was unsettling.

“Robin! Lori Burbach with the Jump City Gazette. Could I ask you a couple of questions?”

Well, at least he had something to do.

He thought he could see her turn to look at him, but he supposed it was just a coincidence—there were a _lot_ of people surrounding her, and what were the odds she’d just happen to catch one reporter talking to him?

Pretty good, actually, it turned out.

-+-

As soon as he finished the interview—some surprisingly in-depth questions about how the Titans’ involvement in Japan might affect US-Japan diplomatic relations, as well as the expanding Titan Network—he turned to see Starfire approaching him with an oddly timid expression on her face. He almost immediately walked toward her, reaching out a comforting hand, but a tall and handsome young man, probably no older than twenty-three, cut between them, politely offering Starfire a dance. She looked over at Robin questioningly.

Robin just shook his head. “Just go for it,” he muttered. “No big deal.”

He did not, in fact, want her to go for it, and it was a very big deal, but Starfire let the man lead her to the dance floor. They revolved together quite gracefully, though Robin thought he saw a rather hurt look in her eyes when she met his from across the room. She began to walk toward him again when the song ended, but another man asked her for a dance, and then another, and another, and once again Robin felt himself fade back against the other setpieces.

But at least he was getting interviews.

Cool. Cool cool cool.

_Great._

At least he knew how to maneuver around these sorts of gatherings, having once been forced to attend them so often. But making polite conversation with political leaders and local celebrities while watching his girlfriend dance with every twentysomething in Jump City was _not _how he had wanted to spend tonight.

But it was all he could do. He couldn’t talk to the one person he wanted to talk to, more than anything else in the world, because what was he supposed to say to someone who looked like that? What could he possibly have to offer someone who looked and talked and acted like _her?_

It was like everything about who she was as a person somehow managed to get sewn into an evening gown. Just the way it shimmered when she moved reminded him of nights they’d spent watching the stars, her face glowing as she told him about her home planet and him probably saying a bunch of stupid things and her being so unbelievably kind and patient anyway. She carried herself throughout the ballroom like a queen, yet she spoke with sincerity and kindness to everyone no matter who they were—like the leader she was. And he couldn’t help but notice her bare arms and shoulders, toned and muscled from lifting buildings and breaking rocks, and from carrying him when they needed to fly (another thing he was useless for)—

And who was he? Some guy in a suit who hadn’t even had the guts to tell her how he felt until they’d almost been killed about a million times over. And it wasn’t because he was just oh so concerned about their mission and the team and whatever other stupid excuse he came up with, always trying to justify it in his head—he’d been afraid, because when it came to stuff like this he was just another dumb teenager and he knew it.

And now she knew it, too.

-+-

“You wanna tell me why Star’s so miserable?”

Robin looked up at Cyborg from his lonely seat at a corner table, where he had just sat down after a _very_ long conversation with Mayor Berry about allocation of funds. (Look, it didn’t matter who you’d been trained by—no sixteen-year-old wanted to sit around using words like ‘allocation of funds’, no matter how well he was dressed.) Cyborg, he’d noticed, had taken several turns dancing with both Sarah and Starfire, usually doing his part to keep some of the more unpleasant people off Starfire’s back.

Exactly what Robin should have been doing.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “She doesn’t look all that upset.”

Cyborg sank into the chair next to him. “C’mon man, really? Look, I’m no relationship guru, but it didn’t take her long to tell me she’s not holdin’ up so well, and it’s pretty obvious it’s ‘cause of you.”

“Of course it is,” Robin mumbled.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Robin burst out. “I can’t do _anything_. I can’t talk to her, I can’t dance with her, I can’t even—tell her she’s pretty!”

“Um…” Cyborg furrowed his brow. “Not to be insensitive, but…why can’t you do any of that stuff?”

“Because I’ll screw it up! Like I always do! I mean, look at her! I couldn’t get out two words when she showed up looking like that, but every other guy in this city can just walk up and ask her to dance?” He buried his face in his hands. “What is _wrong_ with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Cyborg said placatingly.

“Then why do I keep making these stupid mistakes? Why do I never know what to say?” He sighed. “I wish…I wish I was more like you.”

Cyborg stared at him, then slowly raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes,” Robin said, trying his best not to grit his teeth. “This stuff is so easy for you. Sarah was all over you because _you_ could actually tell her she looked nice! And she was in a car with _other people._ It was gross.”

“You mean it was cute and you’re jealous?” Cyborg frowned. “How are you jealous of me? You’re _Robin._ And I think makin’ out with you in the rain makes it pretty clear where Star’s at.”

“But I just don’t get why,” Robin argued. “I mean, _look_ at her! She could have the best. She deserves the best! She shouldn’t…” He pressed his lips together. “Why does she want me? All I do with her is mess up.”

“No, you don’t,” Cyborg said, an unusually soft tone in his voice. “Look, she’s seen the worst of you and she still wants to be with you. Doesn’t that tell you anything?” He shook his head. “C’mon, man, tell me you didn’t spend hours getting ready and preppin’ yourself ‘cause you wanted tonight to be perfect and now you’re spiraling ‘cause one little thing went wrong.”

“_Shut up.”_ Robin’s teeth clenched, but one look at Cyborg’s understanding smile made him relax his jaw in defeat. This was one of his best friends, someone he played basketball with in the morning and tied scores with at racing games. It was hard for him to remember, sometimes, that they weren’t actually competing for everything—that a lot of times, especially now, Cyborg was mostly just being playful. And the fact was, competing here was pointless, because Cyborg had read him like a book and they both knew it.

Robin put a hand to his face and rubbed lightly at his forehead. “I’m sorry. I just…I spent so much time trying to push away how I felt about her, and I thought I could handle this and be the guy she deserves, and I can’t.”

“’Course you can’t,” Cyborg said kindly. “And neither can I.”

Robin gave him a look. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, man!” Cyborg laughed. “Just ask Sarah. I screw up all the time. Didn’t you know we broke up for awhile ‘cause I couldn’t get my act together with her?”

Robin flushed slightly. He _really_ should’ve known about that. “No, I didn’t.”

“Look man, so much stuff happens behind the scenes. Everybody’s tryna make it look like they got it all together, but truth is, we’re all just fakin’ it.” He put a reassuring hand on Robin’s shoulder. “And give yourself a break. You’re new at this. You’re allowed to mess up.”

“I wouldn’t _be_ new at this if I’d just had the guts to say what I felt a long time ago,” Robin muttered.

Cyborg shrugged. “Maybe, or maybe not. But it’s not a long time ago, it’s now, and all you can do is your best right now.” His smile became more mischievous. “’Sides, I think she likes it when you’re not tryin’ so hard.”

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, man, you give the sappiest speeches about friendship and teamwork I’ve ever heard and I still get all choked up over ‘em, and it’s cause you’re not thinkin’ so hard about it. You just go with your gut.”

“This is different,” Robin mumbled.

“Not really,” Cyborg said breezily. “Take it from me, outside lookin’ in. You got all these ideas about what she ‘deserves’ to have, but maybe think about how you’re the guy she wants—cheap hair gel and all.”

“Thanks,” Robin said dryly. He sought out Starfire again, easily recognizeable by her golden skin and radiant dress, and his eye caught a sweeping shimmering skirt flitting around a doorframe that led out to a balcony. His heart sank; Starfire only left parties when something was really wrong.

“Go on, man.” Cyborg said. “Seriously.”

Knees quaking and neck flushing, Robin stood up and began to walk forward.

-+-

She wasn’t crying. That was a good sign…right?

He took a steadying breath. “Um…Starfire?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t even turn around, instead continuing to gaze out over the shining city lights. But she also wasn’t glaring at him or speaking coldly, so he took a few tentative steps forward, stopping a couple of feet behind her.

“I…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Starfire turned around to face him, and Robin felt his stomach lurch at the hurt look in her eyes. “For what do you wish to apologize? It is clearly I who have done something wrong.”

“What?” Instinct took over and Robin closed the gap between them, joining her in resting his elbows on the balcony railing. “You didn’t do anything—what are you talking about?”

“I danced with that boy,” she said hollowly, “and the others—I was overwhelmed, and I did not know what to do, because it is polite to dance at such functions, and you said it would be alright, but you looked so upset, and I ought to have refused and joined you, I ought to have known you were attempting to—‘put on a brave face’, but—”

“Starfire, _no.”_ She was _not_ going to blame herself for a stupid thing he had done. “I was the one who screwed up. I just…I didn’t know how to say anything.”

She frowned. “Robin, we have always been able to talk to each other.”

He swallowed. “Not…not like this.”

“But we have been to formal occasions before.”

“Yeah, but we—you—you haven’t—” He tugged fruitlessly at his collar. “You didn’t…well—”

She stared at him, looking absolutely lost. “What is different about me?”

He swallowed again and took a deep breath. _Don’t try so hard, don’t try so hard—_

“You just…you didn’t look so…so…like _that.” _Was he really going to have to try and say it?

‘Lost’ changed to ‘offended’ in near record time. “Like what?” she asked slowly, eyes narrowing.

“It—it’s not bad!” he said hastily, putting up placating hands. “It—the opposite, I mean! You look really—really good! I—”

_Someone please hurl me into the sun._

Starfire tipped her head to one side. “It is…wrong to look good?”

“No, no, it’s just—” Robin dragged a hand down his face. Maybe if he pretended to faint he could find a way to sneak off to Blüdhaven? No, that’d be stupid—

“Robin.”

Starfire’s voice was quiet as she took his hands, and he looked up to meet her gentle gaze. “What is the matter?”

Something about the starlight, maybe, and the way the city lights glimmered off her eyes—and suddenly he was back on the roof, legs dangling over the edge, and they were telling each other everything, and all the stupid stuff he said just didn’t matter anymore.

It was him and her. Robin and Starfire. Like always.

“I…I guess I was avoiding you because I thought—I couldn’t—” He swallowed. “I-I just don’t feel like I deserve you.”

Starfire’s eyes widened, and her grip on his hands tightened almost painfully. “Robin, what could ever make you think such a terrible thing?”

“I don’t know, it’s—I-I wanted this night to be perfect, and the perfect date for us, and then I just saw you and…” Robin looked down at his shoes as a blush crept over his cheeks. “You look amazing—I mean, you always do, but I—it made me think of how incredible you are, and how…really lame I am next to you.”

Crimson and gold filled his vision, and his face was suddenly pressed against her shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around his back. “Robin,” she breathed, “nothing could ever be further from the truth. You are wonderful and kind and brave, and I have the most fun with you. I merely wish you could see yourself as I see you.”

How could the way she saw him be so good—how could she come close to seeing him the way he saw her?

He lifted his chin up to rest on her shoulder and gingerly lifted his arms around her. “I just don’t get it,” he mumbled. “Why—”

“Because you are my best friend,” she murmured. “And I know you.” One of her hands slid up his back and her fingers lightly gripped his shoulder. “I do not fear your flaws.”

Of course she didn’t. She was the bravest and strongest girl he’d ever known.

He squeezed his arms tight around her and nestled his head against her neck, gently breathing in the sweet flowery scent of her hair. Her pulse beat steady in his ear and her hands rubbed slowly and rhythmically up and down his back. She really had always fought for him, he marveled, even when everyone else had let him go. He still didn’t completely understand it—but he knew it.

And maybe he could begin to trust it.

Unconsciously, they began swaying to the slow tune coming from inside the ballroom. Starfire even began humming along and shifted her arms to rest her hands on his shoulders, head still leaning against his neck. Robin couldn’t help but smile, and he took a small step backward that she immediately understood, revolving with him in a tiny circle on the balcony.

They were both silent for awhile, simply letting the music guide their steps and holding each other close. The air had a distinct, heady scent of an evening on the cusp of summer; what stars they could see twinkled merrily above them, but rather than clash with the city lights in the distance, they seemed to glimmer in concert—a sort of harmony promising quiet and solitude and energy and life.

But something about Starfire felt like she had more on her mind.

Robin pulled back and took one of her hands, shifting into a more proper dance position. “Something wrong, Star?”

She started, eyes widening momentarily, before her cheeks flushed crimson and she didn’t seem to want to look at him. “You believe I am…that I look beautiful?”

He was so taken aback that he almost tripped, and took a moment to right himself. Starfire was pressing her lips together, looking…anxious?

Was she really asking that question?

“What—why do you ask?”

Their dance had stopped when Robin stumbled, and Starfire was now hugging herself, still not meeting his eyes. “You said before, that you were made so upset because I…looked this way, and you felt inadequate by comparison,” she said carefully. “You truly like the way I look?”

Nothing made sense. Who in the world had ever made Starfire doubt this?

Robin reached out and grabbed her hands. “Starfire, of course I do,” he said earnestly. She met his gaze, face lighting up, and his heart felt lighter than air. “You always look amazing, especially tonight—I mean, you’re beautiful.”

He realized what he said a split second after he said it and felt his face turn crimson red, but Starfire was beaming and holding their hands close to her face and had started floating off the ground unconsciously, and more words just didn’t seem necessary.

They also weren’t likely to come out of his mouth for a while, as it was suddenly occupied elsewhere.

It took him a moment to process what just happened, but he leaned up into it and returned the kiss, standing up on tiptoe. His brain felt like it was operating at about an eighth of its normal capacity—half-formed thoughts were short-circuiting their way through and he was numbly aware of some sort of party in the distance. What exactly was going on, other than _it’s her it’s Starfire she’s here we’re here and she’s perfect_, he couldn’t have told you.

She pulled away and rested her forehead against his, touching gracefully back down on the ground. They were still holding both hands—the fingers had been intertwined along the way seemingly without Robin’s knowledge—and he let go of one to reach up and cup her face, thumb brushing back and forth along her cheek.

She giggled. “What are you doing?”

The question dimly triggered a memory, and he felt like he had had some sort of suave and clever answer, but none of it registered, and he found he didn’t mind.

Instead, still blushing furiously, he said, “Looking at you.”

It was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not totally enamored with this, but i like it. i wanted sarah to be here and with the team because it's what she deserves, and i also wanted to give cyborg something to do other than being the Shipper On Deck. (i love the trope and i love cyborg but cmon fam he's got his own life)
> 
> also, bb and raven are eating stauffer's mac n cheese. this serves no purpose other than to remind you that stauffer's is delicious.


	7. Glad Tidings, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jinx's first real christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i started writing a short christmas thing at the beginning of january. it's now mid-march.
> 
> oops.

Looking around the OPs room of the newly-minted, tinsel-strung Titans South Tower, Jinx wished she knew what to do with herself.

The first real Thanksgiving had been easy—nobody at the HIVE really paid it much mind in the traditional gather-and-eat-dinner sense, preferring instead to plan for all the Black Friday crimes or crash local parades just for fun. She could spend it with her new team—her new _friends—_and just experience the day the way it was meant to be.

But Christmas…even to card-carrying villains, the season meant something. They’d spend the entire month preparing and decorating and singing carols, too. And their hideout always seemed to get more peaceful, even homey. For at least one brief season of the year, they actually kind of felt like a family.

It stung a little when the inevitable backstab or below-the-belt sneer would snap things back to how they really were.

But it was all she’d ever truly known. She’d never celebrated Christmas as a kid, growing up in an orphanage in Mumbai; her powers came as much a shock to her as they did the headmistress who could never quite look at her the same when all the accidents were traced back to her. And when she was brought into the HIVE Academy, the nuances of traditional American holiday celebrations weren’t really a top educational priority. Most of what she had learned came from…well, her old team.

But they hadn’t just been her old team. Deep down, she’d wanted them to be her friends, and maybe a part of her that she was always trying to repress really believed they were. The memories and the mixed fondness and guilt they brought didn’t lie.

She was a Titan now, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. She didn’t want to miss them. She _shouldn’t_.

But she did.

It was hard sometimes, carrying guilt that none of her teammates did. And secretly kind-of-missing her old team didn’t help.

“C’mon, Slowpoke, we gotta get cookies in the oven! It’s Pantha’s homemade recipeeeeee,” Kid Flash said in singsong as he zoomed up to the couch.

Something must have shown on her face, because he suddenly frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s…it’s nothing,” she muttered, beginning to stand.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you look like that,” Kid Flash countered, taking her hand and sitting down.

She hated how he could disarm her, sometimes. It had led her here, of course, but it also meant having to be honest about her feelings—_vulnerable_, a condition she shied away from on instinct.

“I just…don’t really feel right,” she said carefully.

Kid Flash took her other hand and started rubbing his gloved thumbs over the backs of her palms. “Jinx, you belong here,” he said earnestly. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past. You’re choosing every day to be better. You’re choosing to make things right.”

“I—it’s not just that.” The words escaped her unbidden. It was like her brain _wanted_ her to be soft around this guy.

With his stupid handsome face and stupid soft blue eyes and stupid windswept hair and stupid, _stupid_ big lovable heart.

“It’s…it’s just that all of this…” She gestured with her head toward the front of the Ops Room, including the massive Christmas tree covered in baubles and lights. “We used to do this kind of stuff, too. Back in the HIVE. And I…” She stared down at the couch cushions. “I kinda miss them.”

Quite apart from recoiling, Kid Flash released one of her hands to reach up and brush his fingers against her cheek. “Hey, that’s okay,” he said gently.

Jinx looked up at him, blinking back tears she hadn’t realized were forming. “But—I mean, is it?”

“Of course it is,” he said firmly. “They were your friends. It’s complicated, but being complicated doesn’t make you a bad person.”

She shook her head. “You still don’t know the things we—”

“And I don’t need to.” He tipped her chin up to look her in the eyes. “All I need to know is that you’re choosing every day to be better, and you’ve worked to make up for what you’ve done. I trust you.”

“I—” Jinx pressed her lips together to steady her voice. Honestly, there was no one in the world she trusted more.

She couldn’t really speak, but Kid Flash’s eyes were an open book—he knew.

She leaned her head on his shoulder instead, and he wrapped an arm around her, snuggling her close. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, watching the shining lights of the tree against the inky black sky outside.

“It really is nice,” she admitted after awhile. “I could get used to this.”

“You’re gonna have to,” Kid Flash said with a grin. “You’re stuck with us, Slowpoke.”

She covered her mouth to hide her smile—the little smile he said she always got when he said stuff like that—but he saw it and pressed his advantage. “We’re gonna sing cheesy Christmas songs and make you learn all the words and wear ugly sweaters every day, and—” He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe I’ll be able to catch you under the mistletoe.”

Okay, she’d started giggling. Sue her, he was _cute_. “Only if you’re fast enough.”

He grinned. “Challenge accepted.” He looked thoughtful, then added, “What _do_ you think you’d want for Christmas, anyway?”

It was a baiting question, obviously, but…Jinx found she didn’t even have to be coy. She really couldn’t think of anything. Part of her deal with the authorities had included not even legitimately purchasing any clothes or jewelry that cost over $50 for a year, and between that and seeing the robberies from the other side, she could feel her tastes drifting away from her more lavish habits. She didn’t really even _need _anything new; their operation received enough funding to keep them working and living comfortably.

One thing was for sure, she’d had enough genuine displays of emotion today. She shook her head and shrugged. “I dunno, a unicorn,” she drawled.

Kid Flash snickered. “You are the type.”

“Shut up.” Jinx swatted him playfully on the shoulder before pushing herself up off the couch. “C’mon, let’s go help Pantha with the cookies.”

-+-

Christmas morning dawned at around 6:30 AM with joyous whoops and a faint smell of ozone as Lightning soared through the Tower, proclaiming the finery and glory of the holiday and the most excellent cheer of spending Christmas among his Titan brethren. (Jinx and Pantha opened their doors across the hall from each other, exchanged aggravated looks, and went back to sleep.)

When Pantha was finally convinced to wake up at around 9:00, the team gathered at the foot of the colossal tree in the OPs room to exchange gifts. Jinx had tried her best with the budget she had, but she was overall rather pleased with herself—she’d gotten Pantha several rolls of new spatting tape, Thunder and Lightning a new football and basketball (their first ones lost as casualties of sparring-induced overenthusiasm), and Kid Flash a pair of cheap grocery store earbuds that he insisted were better than anything else on the market. (Even Wonder Girl had the decency to use the ones that came with her phone, _honestly._) For her part, she was surprised but nonetheless pleased at the new sketchbook she’d gotten from Pantha, and apparently Thunder and Lightning had surprisingly great taste in boots. (“Some fool suggested we get you red ones! _Red! _In our many years we have never been so appalled!” “My brother is prone to hyperbole, but here he is correct. It would be a horrifying affront to your color palette.”)

“Alright, last present,” Kid Flash said, eyes shining with anticipation. “This one’s from me.”

“Now we can see what fills this massive box,” Pantha remarked. “It is nearly as big as me.”

She wasn’t exaggerating, Jinx noted; they’d all been wondering about it ever since it had made its unsubtle presence known at the foot of the tree two weeks ago. She waved her hand and a burst of pink energy wrapped around it, slicing the candy-cane-patterned paper neatly in half; a snap of her fingers tore the tape off the top of a plain cardboard box, and she stood to pull back the flap.

“Huh,” she muttered. Just looked like a big white pillow or something. A soft-looking one, but still—

She laid the box gently on its side, and with some effort managed to tug out the contents—including a gratuitous amount of packing peanuts, and…

Her eyes grew wide and she clapped both hands over her mouth in awe. _“A_ _giant unicorn??” _she cried, craning her neck above the plush, which was slowly un-smushing itself now that it was free. It really was about as big as Pantha; it had the softest white fur, a sparkly gold horn, a pink mane and matching tail, and pink sparkly hooves.

Kid Flash positively beamed as he watched her eyes flit back and forth between him and the enormous plush. “You said you wanted one.”

“When did I—” Jinx furrowed her brow in confusion, but the memory of that evening conversation flew back into her mind and she gasped. “I cannot believe you!”

She pounced gracefully over the unicorn and flung her arms around her boyfriend, who grunted at the impact but hugged her tight all the same. “You’re amazing,” she mumbled into his ear.

He rubbed a hand up and down her back. “So are you.”

She and Kid Flash snuggled together into the side of the plush all afternoon wrapped in a blanket and cradling mugs of cocoa, watching Pantha and Thunder argue playfully about whose sweater was uglier and Lightning refuse to admit that he was heavily invested in the Charlie Brown Christmas special. She could get used to Christmases like this, she decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think the most fun part of this was hinting at a backstory for jinx. she's indian in the comics and her backstory isn't really expanded upon in the show, so i thought i'd try to bridge the gap a little. as i've said, i'm not super interested in trying to fit comics canon into the cartoon, but i do like having nods to it; i've been reading NTT recently and i think that people who are only familiar with modern comics and the young justice cartoon would be surprised at how faithful TTA ended up being at the end of the day.
> 
> i uuhhhh......may or may not also be writing a robstar christmas thing. with my timing it'll be out right on time for the fourth of july.


	8. Glad Tidings, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> starfire is a firm believer in adherence to tradition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well it didn't take until the fourth of july but at least it's here for memorial day

“Wait, are you serious?” Robin laughed.

“Well, I—I did not do it often—”

“You still did it,” Robin said with a grin. “Seriously? Just so I’d catch you?”

“Yes.” Starfire pouted. “I said I did not do it often. Most times I really _was_ going to hit the ground.”

“But _sometimes…”_ Robin wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulders, cuddling her closer to him on the couch. “_Sometimes_ you just wanted to be saved.”

Starfire giggled in spite of herself. He was preening, certainly, but he was also holding her tight to his chest, which was more than a fair exchange. “Yes, _sometimes_ I simply wished to be saved.”

Robin laughed softly but said nothing to this, while Starfire settled her head into the crook of his neck. She watched the snow falling outside the window in silence, simply content to admire this herald of December.

“Why though?” he asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you want to be saved? I mean, you’re so strong and powerful. Don’t you wanna just be the one who saves everyone?”

Starfire frowned. “I have never thought of it in terms of my strength,” she said slowly. “I suppose I…enjoy the feeling of being protected. There have been so many people who have tried to hurt me and I have had to fight to make myself be seen as worthy. It is…nice to have friends who care enough to fight for me.”

“Huh,” Robin said. “Never thought of it that way.” He smiled down at her. “You have the coolest perspective of anyone I know, y’know that?”

Warmth bubbled up in her chest. “Thank you,” she mumbled, smiling. She looked up at him, a blush creeping over her cheeks. “I also enjoyed that you were the one who always rescued me.”

He was unmistakably puffing his chest with pride and trying to hide it. “Well,” he said, “I’m always happy to help.”

“Indeed.” She shifted upward slightly, pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and pulled back to see that familiar soft, almost dumbstruck expression on his face that she doubted she could ever be tired of.

Something about her must have distracted him because he furrowed his brow, though he was still smiling. “What?” he asked.

Starfire reached up to brush her fingers against his cheek. “You are adorable,” she said matter-of-factly.

Robin’s face turned crimson and his eyes went wide. “I—I’m not—I mean, um—”

Starfire rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and moved her index finger over to his mouth. “I know,” she said gently, before nestling her head back onto his shoulder. She could hear his heart from there, pounding a mile a minute, as he wrapped his arm around her again.

She could not know what exactly had held Robin back all this time, and he did not seem to know either. He had told her as much, ages ago, and she believed him—he needed time to start to fully know himself and his own emotions, and that was time she was willing to give him. _X’Hal_, he was so sweet and attentive and caring…she could talk to him about anything and he would always listen, sometimes while he had an arm around her and rubbed his thumb up and down her bicep or hugged her tight after a difficult battle.

However…she got the sense that he was not fully confident yet when it came to romantic affection. He was always twining their fingers together or walking arm in arm with her, but he never really initiated kisses like she did, always waiting for her to make the first move and being near catatonic when she did. And there were still times—like now—when a single off-hand comment from her managed to turn him into a stammering, blushing “puddle of goo”.

Truthfully? She thought it was cute. _Very_ cute. It was difficult to explain, but the idea that someone with Robin’s fierceness, independence, intellect, and leadership, someone so respected and highly trained, could become so bashful because of her…well, it was quite flattering. And the contrast was fascinating.

And cute.

She was not sure she could emphasize enough how cute it was.

Cute or not, she knew that part of the reason was how emotionally closed-off Robin had been trained to be about such things. He was far more expressive than people gave him credit for most of the time, but there were aspects of himself that he was not fully comfortable with yet—discomfort not rooted in personality, but in worry. He always judged himself so harshly, and she surmised that this fear was merely at the surface of so much more that burdened him. If he became more accustomed to such an innocuous act as kissing, she figured, he would become more confident, and perhaps be better equipped to handle the deeper problems.

Relative privacy, she determined, was of the utmost importance.

As was her carefully curated arsenal of mistletoe.

…What? She could at least be festive about it.

For now, however, she was quite happy to simply snuggle into his arms. He was warm and soft, he was holding her hand, his heart was pounding, and he was looking at her like she was the most precious thing he had ever seen. She sighed in contentment and watched with him in silence as the snow continued to fall.

-+-

The florist had given Starfire a rather knowing look when she came in and asked for several sprigs of mistletoe, but she did not comment, instead offering her a free small spool of velvety red ribbon from a little basket at the counter. (Starfire had attempted to pay full price; when the florist refused, Starfire declared war on her by promoting the florist’s shop on the Titans’ social media accounts. She was delighted when she flew by a couple of days later to see a small crowd inside.) She then spent a cheerful afternoon tying little bows onto the stems while listening to Christmas carols, including a rather jaunty tune by a group called the Trans-Siberian Orchestra that reminded her of a popular children’s song from back on Tamaran.

She would not, however, be hanging them. These were not sprigs of mistletoe to be attached above doorframes. These were traveling sprigs of mistletoe, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice. They were compact and portable, ready to be weaponized against unsuspecting team leaders with handsome faces and tender expressions.

After preparing her cache’s hiding place—behind where she stored the hair products she liked to try on occasion, which for some reason always repulsed Silkie—Phase One had been completed.

Phase Two: Kiss her adorable boyfriend senseless when he least expected it.

Let it never be said that Starfire was not straightforward.

And it was good that she was, because about the time she had poked her head out her door, sprig in hand, whom to her wondering eyes should appear but the aforementioned adorable boyfriend walking around the corner.

She whipped her head back behind the doorframe. He looked…tenser than usual, from the brief look she had gotten. He had not even seemed to notice her, and Robin noticed _everything_. He seemed to be too lost in thought, which only happened on the rare occasions when he was deep into a case, and her heart sank a little at the prospect of what sort of threat could distract him so much.

But then again, these sorts of circumstances usually meant he needed her more than ever.

Now was perhaps not the best time for a romantic gesture, she thought a bit resignedly as she returned her sprig to the basket. She had learned from experience that Robin did not respond well to such things when he was preoccupied. Instead, she forced herself into a casual sort of walk out the door, hoping not to make him think she had been watching him. “Robin,” she greeted. “Is something the matter?”

Had she not been so concerned for him, she would have thought that his yelp of surprise and his flailing arms were rather funny. As it was, he managed to right himself, clutching a hand to his chest and breathing heavily. “Oh—I—hey, Star,” he wheezed.

“Hello,” she said, furrowing her brows. “Are you alright?”

“I—no, yeah,” he managed, straightening his posture. “I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. “I, um. I—I wanted to talk to you, actually.”

She nodded. “About a case, I presume?”

“What?” Robin’s head jerked up to meet her eyes, clearly taken aback. “No, nothing like that. I…” He trailed off, looking again anywhere but at her.

Starfire frowned. “Robin, what is—”

A green blur shot up in front of her face. She blinked, eyes wide, before she recognized the sprig of mistletoe Robin was holding above their heads.

She stared. “Is that m-_mmph!”_

The kiss lasted a few seconds before he pulled away and lowered his hand, cheeks stained crimson. “I, uh—sorry,” he mumbled.

“Do not be,” Starfire breathed, willing herself to stay on the ground. “I am merely surprised. You are not usually so forward.”

Robin rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “That’s, well…kind of why I did it? I, uh—I kinda felt like I should get better at this sorta thing, y’know—try to show you I appreciate you more, the way you do, and I thought…maybe this would give me an extra push.” He held up the mistletoe a little sheepishly.

Starfire beamed and cradled his face in her hands. “It is _quite_ welcome,” she said, resting her forehead against his. Her smile turned cheeky. “Though I fear this mistletoe would become upset if we only honored it once.”

His smile—relief and delight and utter _adoration_ rolled into one—seemed to light up the hallway, and she felt a warm fluttering in her stomachs. “I-I think you’re right,” he agreed, his voice steadying as he brushed his fingers against her cheek. “Gotta keep the mistletoe happy.”

And happy it was kept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: wouldnt it be cool if i wrote fun adventures showcasing all of the team dynamics in the spirit of the original show
> 
> also me: hehehehe im gonna make the cartoons kiss


End file.
